Tomorrow was one of those mornings where I revelled in having four children and a menagerie of pets.
I had a pounding headache thanks to the head cold that has overstayed it's welcome and I was yet to have my coffee. I slept in. Really, all in all it was just a great start to my day.
Then I came downstairs. One child was on his hands and knees wiping something up with paper towel. I chose not to ask what or why. The oldest child needed help with something on the computer. The four year old was doing gymnastics on the couch. I so get why some mothers with a lot of kids get up at 5 a.m. just to get a moment to themselves. But some of them use that time to read the Bible (saw it on TLC, if you can imagine) and pretty sure I'm not giving up two hours of sleep for Bible study. I think Jebus prefers me well rested because I'm slightly less mean...
So I got people fed, provided some IT support and sat here at the computer desk taking it all in. By this time my 15 year old daughter had joined the fun. I was and still am in my pajamas. I was sitting with my legs crossed causing one pajama pant leg to ride up. Daughter noticed this instantly and asked if it didn't "drive (me) crazy"?! Um, no. They are pajamas. I don't care. She did not appreciate this response and so I adjusted said rebel pant leg and carried on.
By carrying on I mean I yelled at my two youngest boys to eat their breakfast and stop wrestling. Suddenly all four kids stopped and were laughing and calling out our older dog's name. It took me a minute to catch on. I could see the rapidly growing mess on the kids' table where they eat their breakfast. What I couldn't see was the 75 lb. Golden Retriever under the table attempting to help 'clean up' the mess being made by the hooligans. Yes, every time the dog moved ahead in an attempt to score another Froot Loop or some milk, the entire table moved causing more spillage.
I was left with no other choice but to laugh. There was a huge mess being made and I knew it would mean floor washing after everyone was gone to school but it was funny and all four of them were in the same room and were laughing and not hitting or yelling at each other.
Bliss.
Then the older children left for school and I resumed hurrying along the other ones to finish their breakfast. My 8 year old came up to me with his hand held up and milk running down his arm in sheer panic. Whatever should or could he hope to do about this situation?!
My reply: "We're not rich but we have the basics; running water, soap and towels. Head to the bathroom (a mere 15 feet away) and wash up."
He did so.
Some of you probably think this is too sarcastic and there is no place for that in parenting. Some of you should probably leave. This is a child who reads above grade level, has a real aptitude for math, can beat his father at XBox and runs his favourite hockey line like a pro. Washing his hands when they are dirty? Should not be a stumbling block in his day to day life.
Further to that, and this is where the positivity and sunlight come pouring in, it dawned on me, we are absolutely not rich. But we do have the basics. And I know there are many that don't. And I know that even though we do not go on vacations, we do not shop at will, there are things we want and can't afford, we have what we need.
And this morning, I needed to see those four maniacs sharing a laugh and one of those asinine animals was the cause of said laugh and it just made me feel good.
