Right this moment I am sitting in my bed, curled up in soft blankets, my sweet little Skye sleeping by me. She still sucks her thumb while burrowing into her baby blankie. She may be 5 and a half (don’t forget the HALF!) when she’s awake, but sound asleep she’s still only two. My baby. My youngest. My last. I try so hard to treasure these moments, to really live in them. To feel them. To make them a tactile memory that I can relive when she’s 16 and driving off in my car with her friends after telling me that I’m old and just don’t get it. Which will practically be tomorrow. And that’s why I’m taking these five minutes and wrapping them up, tucking them away in my heart.
She’s already woken up and gone to play with Sean. See how fleeting those moments are. I didn’t even have time to write them down and flash! Gone.
I COULD be angry, as I got up and walked around the house this morning. It’s trashed. I hate that. Somehow in the day I was at work yesterday, the house imploded. Last night while I was sleeping, it got worse. Dominating the family room is a tent city, composed of half the household blankets and all the dining room chairs. Last night’s dinner dishes are still on the table, along with the last minute groceries I picked up on my way home (nothing needing refrigeration. More thankfulness!) The older kids stayed up half the night playing on the PlayBox thing (got that from Sandra Bullock in The Blind Side. Brilliant movie, check out my review of it HERE.) The proof of that litered across the living room. And my kitchen… oh, my poor poor kitchen! Who would have thought frozen pizzas could spawn such a multitude of dirty dishes?
But, I choose instead to say Oh Well. This is life with 5 kids. It’s a life I’m not going to be living in for much longer, I concede. My oldest is 18. Jason at 17 is in his Senior year and already planning his exodus. I’ll always be the mother of 5, but I won’t be living with them all in the near future. And while part of me looks forward to a lessening of the mess and chaos, I know me well enough to acknowledge that there will be days I’d trade clean floors and washed dishes to have them all back under my roof again.
I choose to make positive memories today. Of fun and togetherness and just being happy I’m not at work. It will not be remembered as the Thanksgiving Mom blew a gasket because the house was a mess and no one did their chores (again!) I’m sad and embarrassed to say, we already have enough of those memories. Thanks. We’re all stocked up. No more.
Besides, we’re heading over to my parents’ house in about an hour!
