I’m curling my hair upstairs, getting ready to meet our new Ethiopian church planters when I hear a scream–two screams, actually–so convincing that I’m sure someone’s life is about to end.
I sprint downstairs, banging into the wall on my way down, only to find a stark-naked Gracie standing in a puddle of bright yellow urine.
“I couldn’t hode it ANY LONGERW…and the toilet was bwo-ken!”
I sigh and walk over to the toilet which is dismantled, but in the 3.47 seconds that I’m away, Penelope slips and falls into the pee-pee puddle. Now she is screaming and her outfit is soaked and we are supposed to be LEAVING. Not only that, but I realize that in the process of the fall, she has broken the closet door.
I’m trying not to miss the journey, but honestly I feel lightheaded. A bowl of Cheerios for breakfast apparently isn’t enough for this marathon that I’m on. For the past two hours I have been simply trying to feed us and clothe us and clean us up, but unfortunately that is enough to make me feel WINDED.
The urine is still on the floor–fluorescent yellow because Gracie apparently just had a multi-vitamin–and I’m up here writing all this down because that’s what I was told to do in this season of insanity.
Laugh and take notes.
I met someone at a BBQ on Monday who was telling me about her job. “I love it,” she said and she truly exuded it. She stared up at the sky as she talked about her work and how it fits her personality and giftedness so well.
So, right now I’m practicing saying, “I love it,” because I know someone will ask what I do and I know I need to cultivate contentment in all things.
I’m practicing smiling, even when Penelope is looking down the back of my yoga pants with a flashlight while I stand at the kitchen counter (Yes, that is happening as we speak).
I’m practicing contentment, choosing to be grateful for what this season gives.
I’m practicing joy, refusing to swallow the spirit of the age, which my Pastor-husband says is personal fulfillment and entitlement.
I’m practicing perspective.
I’m practicing…being in this moment…because I’ve heard it passes pretty quickly.
Now, on to that puddle…
Annie you are so awesome at what you do ! When our little ones create a lot of chaos I think your doing the best thing and writing about it , so one day you can look back and laugh 🙂 granted that day might not be until they are married with kids themselves and telling you about how there kids just about drove them to the brink of insanity that day. I’m so blessed to have you as my friend XO
Hahahahaha! Oh my goodness, how I know days like this. You can always laugh later, but, in the moment, you feel like strangling…something. A great reminder always. Thanks, Annie. 🙂