I had these marvelous intentions to blog every day. And no. As much as I love you, it wasn't for you, dear blog readers. It was for me. Over the past year I kind of lost track of why I started blogging in the first place. That reason was to record our family life while it was still fresh and funny and frenzied. I got swept up in comments and followers and swaps and such. I lost sight of my primary purposes. I began blogging so that years from now my children (and maybe their children too) could sit with me (for I hope I am still around; I would hate to miss a good round of laughing and tears) and we could relive these stories of their sweet and bitter children-hood and my stumbling, bumbling adventures through early motherhood.
I can't help but feel like this precious, precious time is passing quicker than I have the mental ability to retain it. It's so strange how never ending it feels some moments. Then the very next second it strikes me how fleeting this time is as well. It truly pains me that I can't seem to grasp on to these moments, the good and the bad ones. My memory already fails me as I try to think back on my oldest being a baby, on only a year ago when the youngest was a baby. Before I know it they're going to all be potty trained. I'll blink and everyone will be in school. Turn again and we're attending the last graduation ceremony. And weddings and births of grandbabies and holidays and special days and boring days and on and on.
It's all so beautifully tragic and tragically beautiful.
Here I blubber and babble trying to pinpoint with pathetic little words my frustrations with this dilemma of time tick tick ticking on whether I'm ready or not...
It's all so futile, isn't it?
I'm never going to find the perfect, magic words that will freeze my little ones as they are now.
But that doesn't stop me from trying I suppose. So...I'll keep promising to try to maybe blog and journal and scrapbook with the hope that I will be successful in my endeavors and capture little moments that can't be erased by clocks, poor failing memories, and children who refuse to not grow up.
As for today...
Today was like any other day. Nothing unusual. Nothing amazing. Just another day of survival and silliness. There were moments when I looked into my children's faces and wanted to squeeze them. What motivated the intentions behind the squeezing varied wildly. And I did manage to squeeze each of them a few times each. Mostly with love.
A rushed morning complete with a few harsh words.
Huge bear hugs from Dee and dainty cheek presses from Jeigh as I dropped them off in front of the school. A few cuddles on the couch with the two youngest.
A carefully timed treadmill exercise routine (two in school, one down for a nap, one watching PBS. And...RUN!).
A forgotten lunch rushed to the school.
$10 of gas in a minivan tank full of nothing but fumes.
A much needed lunch play date at Chick-Fil-A. Waffle fries and swapping of gluten free recipes. Homework. Snacks. Nap times.
We went grocery shopping. They asked 49 times if they could have this treat or that toy or this sugary cereal. And I said "NO!" 49 and a half times. We ate hot dogs, pizza, and lemonades at Costco for dinner. I patted myself on the back for feeding my entire entourage for a whopping $6.67 and tried to ignore the absence of health in hot dogs, pizza, and lemonades.
A failed Family Home Evening consisting of nothing more than sitting around eating Muddy Buddies together.
Too much junk food and not enough veggies. Sigh. Try again tomorrow.
And off to bed. Everyone hugged. Everyone kissed. Everyone pottied.
Everyone loved. Very much. By a very tired mother who wants to capture just another boring normal day. Because she sees the beauty in it. Because it was terrible and wonderful all at the same time. Because she knows one day she will miss days like this.
(Not) The End.