What a perfectly normal, perfectly imperfect, perfectly wonderful day.
I snuck in a quick treadmill run this morning. Second one for the week! And that's saying something since I'm just now easing my way back into running since being a lazy bum since Thanksgiving. (Did I just drop three "sinces" in one sentence? Oh yes I did. Oh the shame! The over abundance of "since" AND the no running.) It's quite a relief to see that although my mileage and athleticism are suffering that the ability to run comfortably is still there. There is much work to be done. Sigh.
Speaking of running, I drove into downtown Salt Lake for a lunch date with some of my favorite people, my running group ladies. I almost didn't go. I'm so glad I did.
One migraine later...one handful of ibuprofen and one coke later...
The new home phone is set up. I'm trying to teach the kids about the sounds on the phone, how to use the phone, and phone etiquette. It all seems funny and backwards and exciting. And now my son has decided calling my cell phone is better than walking across the room to ask a question about homework.
Homework is done.
Second quarter report cards have come home. Everyone is doing pretty awesome in an average sort of way. Even Dee who can't seem to stay on task, stop talking in class, or remember to turn in assignments. (Are all third grade boys like this or just my kid?)
Dee finds out he will be getting his Wolf badge in time! (Note to self: We work on Bear more consistently and earlier.)
And in a last ditch effort to get some help with daily chores I dangle the new Lego movie coming out February 7th as bait.
"Complete your chore charts for two weeks straight and I'll take you to see the Lego movie. Popcorn, pop, the whole nine yards."
I want to see it just as bad as they do, but I want my house clean too. It's just too overwhelming for me to keep up with. And for goodness sake, they are old enough to help! Besides they make the messes! I've been trying to step back and hand over more responsibilities and have more expectations of my children. I know it's overdue. It's just easier said than done.
I remember my mom saying over and over when we were kids and doing chores: "A lazy mother does all the work." It didn't make much sense to me. I just figured she was in her room laughing it up behind our backs, eating chocolates, and congratulating herself for raising herself a bunch of free labor, but I believe "slaves" was my word of choice back then. Now I can appreciate the work she put into teaching us to work. And how she was doing the lion's share beyond my limited vision.
So far I have been a "lazy mother". It's just so much easier to do everything and do it the way I like. I have tried so many different methods to get my children to help clean the house. Most of the "methods" were just half-hearted efforts that fizzled into nothing more than yelling. Yelling seems to be my favorite method. Sigh.
Today I dug deep and found the patience to not yell but to teach and guide. It took everything I had not to grab the rags out of my son's hands and just wash the toilets myself *twitch, twitch* but I stood back and talked him through it. And he actually did an excellent job! And he even said it was--GASP!--"fun"!
Jeigh was in charge of dishes. Not only did she unload the dishwasher and put the dishes away, but she also loaded it without being asked and did so while singing her little heart out.
Elle took some coaxing. Every few feet she needed to be reminded to turn the vacuum back on, but she eventually made her way through it. I've found several missed spots *twitch, twitch* but I'm really trying to spotlight effort and attitude versus perfection.
Oh this is hard.
And me! Well!
In an effort to reinforce all the positive warm fuzzy feelings of accomplished chores and stellar report cards I suggested we go out and celebrate! (AKA: Mom didn't want to make dinner.)
The cherry on top: My 7 year old daughter breaking out into The Robot while riding home.
Playing "Justin Bieber" with my son:
And Elle and Cee wanting to say their own personal prayers.
Oh and Cee dubbing her big bear as "Daddy" and asking me to put him in her bed so she can snuggle "Daddy" as she falls asleep. (Joe, you are missed as always.)
Good day. Good life. Good nite.