Thursday, December 20, 2012

Hidden Blessings/Sandy Hook

My tired feet hit the rug beside my bed and I grumble…I inwardly whine about all the things that I need to accomplish at this ungodly hour of the morning. My mind tells me to turn around and retreat to the warm covers from hence I came as I walk down the hall, but my body has been so trained to disregard the will (well, at least the getting up at the ungodly part) of myself that ...I continue down the hall, past children’s doors and family pictures hanging on the wall-oh yah, and the half dozen shoes scattered throughout the hall, the dog hair…sigh, don’t forget the dog hair. As I walk into the kitchen, “the” dog is already begging to be let through the door and an alarm clock of a teenage girl is going off downstairs, even though I won’t see her face for at least an hour and the alarm will alert the house at least two to three more times…that she is still in bed.

I start lunches, and snacks. I fill thermoses and sign agenda’s. I curl ribbon for last minute Teacher Christmas Goodies and write out the tags to go with them. Cute tags-they make me smile. I brush away glitter to lay down bread, a little glitter never hurt anyone..plus makes for an interesting sandwich! I feed the dog who won’t stop whining and mutter to myself, “self, tomorrow you are not feeding this dog, a child can!” Knowing full well, that tomorrow when he whines “self” will give in and feed him.

I run downstairs and switch laundry..oh, great someone has thrown all my wet laundry on top of the washer so they could wash theirs, and now my dress pants…smell. On the way up the steps, I flip on the teenagers light that the annoying alarm is once again sounding from, and let the other teenager know his appearance would be appreciated (I get a ….Mom, I’ve got this..maybe he does) and head back up the steps. From there, I pick up a few of the shoes in the hall and chunk them into a few of the rooms they belong in, along with a..up, up, up..time to face the day!! This tactic it’s not overly successful-but it’s this or me screaming GET UP NOW!..so, I opt for the up up up. I am not rewarded with smiles and happy good morning sentiments, but rather, coughing and gasping for air as one male child tries to assure me for the millionth time that he is dying and needs to stay home from school.

Have you emptied the trash? What do you mean you need five dollars-followed by, What do you mean you lost yesterday’s five dollars..or here’s a good one, What do you mean you need five dollars because you treated your friend to a milk shake, you mean I TREATED your friend to a MILKSHAKE? How long have you known about this report? Can you stay after school, WHO will bring you home, WHO? If you mock your sister one more time, I’m gonna flatten you and then you will have a breathing problem! Leave the dog alone, NO-you are NOT leaving the house with that many wrinkles and just because she got the last fruit roll up in her lunch doesn’t mean I love her more. These are things that echoed within my walls…

As I am just about to reach the mountain top of insanity (the only mountain top that I am a frequent climber of)they start filtering out the door-the oldest one drives now, it’s a mother’s dream and nightmare all wrapped up into one tiny little package. The boy child who is breathing just fine, runs back in the door…and slams right into me…love you mom, love you-sorry about the fruit roll up thing..and he dashes off.

My youngest is still at home for a few moments until she catches the bus..she comes and puts out her hand, here mom, I found this beautiful rock for you-because you’re the best mom, I miss you during the day mom-and she lays into me and stays there…and I rub her back and smell her Hershey kiss lip gloss and chuckle at her layered socks (her older sister taught her this) and bright colored purple boots and think..all of this is worth every alarm, every sprinkle, every dog hair..it’s worth it.

Somewhere this morning, twenty plus mothers in CT heard nothing but their own thoughts. Somewhere this morning, almost two dozen moms, weren’t making sandwiches and last minute Christmas presents and breaking up fights at the breakfast table. Those moms aren’t dealing with all the hustle and bustle and chaotic chaos of life…..instead they were looking at trees that held ornaments that their tiny babies made, and empty lunch boxes. 


 But they wish they were… 


 I guarantee many of them slept in small beds that had action figure, or Disney princess quilts loaded with favorite stuffed animals so they could feel them, smell them.

So, all of a sudden, the drama of the morning sounds like a gift-every single bit of it.


Covering you in prayer Sandy Hook Moms!

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