Today has been crazy.
It's Peter's 3rd birthday.
And my little world decided to implode on me.
I woke up horribly. I had a dream that I was shot in the chest and I could feel the life ebbing out of me. I was trying to tell my husband I was dying and that I love him. It was so intense. I felt I haven't been able to shake this dream off.
I woke up with a start and had overslept big time and had 15 minutes to get ready and get in the car and take the boys to Libby's citizen of the month award ceremony. We got there with time to spare but it was raining and the boys kept jumping in puddles and Peter kept running away from me.
I had planned to take the kids out after the ceremony for breakfast. Mike had work so I knew he wouldn't be there to help me. I was hoping my in-laws would but they aren't well so they weren't there. My Mom came but had to leave right after to help with my Grandmother (her Mom). So I had 4 kids solo and decided instead of breakfasting at a restaurant with the help of adults I would drive through and grab some sausage biscuits. And since it's Peter's birthday we stopped at the thrift store and let him get some toys.
We went in and the kids were having fun but a little wild when I had to try and get them in the bathroom and the boys wanted to go in the men's room, which I understand but don't like because I can't keep an eye on them. And Peter was fussing... as he had been all day and screaming and yelling. No fun.
They were done with the bathroom and in the toy section when my stomach caught me in a lurch. Oh no! Bad sausage biscuit. I had to go to the bathroom in an emergency type way. When I dealt with that I came out to find my kids calmly playing, thank God.
We picked which toys would become Peter's presents and checked out. Peter had run out the door outside before I finished my purchasing transaction. It was a crazy wild mess with the rain and my 3 year old running around in the parking lot which is completely dangerous and I felt like falling apart.
And then I got a call that Samuel was sick. He was at school. He had a bad headache... again. So I went and took the twins to Kindergarten and Libby back to school and Peter and I and his little popper. You know those toys you push that has the hard plastic bubble at the one end and when you push it the balls inside pop up and make a loud abnoxious sound.... Yeah, he was pushing that and we went to get Samuel at the nurses station.
As soon as we got there Samuel told me he was going to be sick... so he threw up in the waste basket. So I left with a sick kid who is devastated because tomorrow is his field trip to the Living Museum and now he can't go and with a crazy tantrumed 3 year old pushing his little popper toy.
To make a long story short I needed to swing by Chick-fil-A because I had gotten a call and needed to talk to a manager about something and I had said I would be there earlier... and Peter had known we were going before Samuel got sick and was flipping out wanting nuggets. So I have Peter wailing in the car and yet Samuel manages to pass out from fatigue. I get to chick-fil-a and leave them in the car in a handicapped parking spot and run in to talk to the manager and get lunch and leave.
And Samuel wakes up. And Peter's howling because we're not going inside to play. And Samuel wants fries which he is eating and then throwing up. And it's all this crazy hullabaloo. Peter is kicking the back of my chair so hard as I'm driving that he hurts my back. And he's screaming at the top of his lungs in this horrifically piercing way. And I'm sitting there driving, praying for peace as Peter shrieks and Samuel throws up and my little world feels like it's imploding.
I get home and fix lunch (throwing nuggets and fries on a plate). I clean the kitchen for over an hour and it's not done and I decide to put Peter down for a nap and take a rest myself. I have less than an hour of a little bit of quiet but I will take it.
I try and explain to people what my normal days are like and 99.9% don't get it. It's always crazy. There is always something bizarre or weird going on and usually someone is sick and we go to the doctors office almost every day. Not pediatricians everyday but you know some kind of medical, dental, vision, hearing appointment, or speech therapy, etc. It's wild. And there are usually some tears shed and somebody gets hurt from tripping or falling or someone "accidentally" pushing or whacking someone with a plastic sword, bat, etc.
There's bloody noses. There's throw-up to clean up. There's meals to make and butts to wipe. There are tons of medicines to pass out. Inhalers for asthma and zyrtec for seasonal allergies and crazy amounts of vit. D, Omega 3s, probiotics, anitbiotics, etc. to distribute.... every day. And someone has an ear infection. And someone has a stomach ache or their head hurts. And people accidentally knock into other people in the middle of the night and have double vision all day.
And then we play games. The kids played rounds of go-fish on the rug while I cleaned the kitchen yesterday. And books are read. And books get written in (one of the twins was very proud of writing their name and wrote all over Libby's school library book).
And it's noisy and loud around here. And it's raining. Or it's sunny and they must take out every bike, skateboard, tricycle, wagon, and outdoor toy they can find and litter the lawn and the parking area with their vehicles of choice.
This mixture of chaos and joy and shrieks and mess and love and hugs and kisses and snuggles and bruises and scrapes and stained shirts is my life. The piles of clean laundry that have yet to get folded and the mounds of dirty laundry yet to make it into the wash. This is my life.
It's CT scans and holding my breath and hoping and praying for good results. It's birthdays with candles and cakes and presents and toys and confetti. It's not having enough money for the the things you want but thankful when people help you get groceries when the cupboards get bare. It's long worked hours and Mike gone in the middle of the night working at times.
It's cars breaking down. It's hot coffee that lifts my soul with it's intoxicating smell of pumpkin spice. It's holding my friends as they cry and tell me heartbreaking stories. It's praying over the phone with friends when you can't be there in person. It's laughing your butt off over hilarious movies and tv shows on DVD.
It's hot cocoa made my by my husband and s'mores that he made me for me with a lighter. It's bonfires and outdoor leaves and the smell of smoke from a wood fire. It's mud and smears and cleaning out the car again.
It's restless nights unable to sleep because my stomach is knotted in worry or I'm too overtired to sleep or there are too many children in my bed and I end up downstairs on the couch.
It's nights of consistently getting 3 hours of sleep, sometimes 5.
It's waking up at 5:30 to help get kids ready for school and on the bus.
It's asking God questions about why life has been what it has been for us. It's singing hymns while my hands are in warm dishwater. It's picking up a hefty three year old and having him wrap his arms around me and pat my back in a hug.
It's being too tired to read another word on the page. It's full of hope and mystery and cinnamon and freshly baked pumpkin bars. It's rubbing little feet with tea tree oil because they got itchy. It's smiling into my daughter's upturned face and staring at each other nose to nose.
It's so many things. Good, bad, horrible and glorious. And God is in it all. He is there in the midst. He is with me. He knows I'm needy and broken and imperfect. He loves me and heals me and restores me. He strengthens me and refreshes me and encourages me and gives me the faith and the grace I need to face each day and to live and be in each moment.
Jesus, you are my everything. And when my little world implodes remind me that you're all I need. And that it's okay. even if all falls away... even if my life is gone. I have you. And that's more than enough for me.