more of the same

".... and thank you for a Great supper and a GREAT day!  Amen!"

As Mikey finished praying over our supper, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.  Just that day, the boys and I had spent five hours in the car, helping out the husband with some of his work and doing some of my Sugarfield work.  Sure, I had bribed heavily with treats and drinks and movies on my laptop, but the endless hours in the car weighed on me.  All the times I had turned around to gripe at them for spilling and being messy rattled around in my head.

We stopped at home just long enough for me to yell at them for some mess or other, picked up girls from their tutoring, and rushed to the last Religious Ed. class of the year, where they boys were able to play on the school playground for an hour.  We headed home to a forgettable meal, after which I snapped at the kids until they went to bed.

This is just how things are right now.  Busy enough to make my head swim.  Short tempered enough to make me go to bed regretting the whole day.

But there are small pockets of happiness and joy.  Sure we spent the day in the car, but we were able to help out the Papi, so he had a little extra time for us on the weekend.  The meal was forgettable, but the sweet prayer and the enthusiasm of the child make it special.

Right now I'm holding on to the small pockets of happiness in each day.  Because of the two birthdays we've had in March and April, we've arrived home many days to packages for one or the other or all kids.  Those are great days.

One day our praying mantis egg hatched.  A fellow co-op mother gave us this egg, and it sat in our little butterfly habitat for...  long enough.  Just when I thought it wouldn't do anything, maybe we had shaken it too many times, manhandled it too much, it burst open with life.

Dozens of these teeny, tiny mantis emerged.  It seemed as if one second I checked on the egg and the next second there was a confetti of babies all over the mesh walls and ceiling of the habitat. 

We released them into the garden, hoping that a few would survive into the summer.  One of the little guys above attempted to crawl up Deli's sleeve, causing a little dancing on the boy's part.  A few precious minutes in the back yard spent with my family and some mantis babies was enough to make that day into a great day. 

And in other news, we found a package on our porch from the Allem cousins.

That was a great day, indeed.

Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 106

Three Dog Night

by Faith Shearin

In the old days, before houses were warm,
people did not sleep alone. Not even
widows went by themselves into

the cold sheets of night. Rooms were
lit with lanterns and children were
encouraged to jump on their beds,

warming themselves, before they
crawled inside. You might sleep with
your cousin or sister, your nose

buried in the summer of their
hair. You might place a baked potato
in your blanket to help it remember

warmth. A fire would be lit but, after
awhile, it would smolder down
to the bone silence of ash. Everything

was cold: the basin where you washed
your face, the wood floor, the windows
where you watched your breath

open over the framed blur of snow.
Your hands and feet were cold
and the trees were cold: naked,

traced in ice. You might take a dog
to bed or two or three, anything to lie
down with life, feel it breathing nearby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So I've really been enjoying knitting.  You can find me at any free moment, needles in hand, making the newest project.  Right now I'm making a little shawl for the girls, pictured above.  The pattern I'm using is for a 2-4 year old, but I'm just making it bigger and longer and hoping it will work out.  Much like everything I do.  

One thing knitting is doing for me is helping me appreciate the work that went into being a woman many years ago, and for some even today.  For me, this little shawl is a leisurely project, something I do while I sit a the library while the boys are in their class.  I knit in the evenings while the husband and I sit on the couch watching a show.  Other than my impatience to get it done there is no sense of urgency to this knitting.  Nobody will be cold because I didn't finish the project.  For mothers in years past knitting was done, maybe in the evening, but it was done by the light of a fire, after she was done mending, cooking, butchering hogs, churning butter, weaving, burying a child, nursing another one sick with the pox, etc., etc.  If you didn't knit, there were no warm sweaters for winter, no warm socks.  

I can also understand, to a small degree, why children were beaten for ruining clothes.  If kids were lucky they had play clothes and church clothes.  What mother would not become just a little irate at the sight of a rip or stain in the nice church clothes she had just spent forty hours weaving/sewing/knitting?  I get crazy when I find a clean folded-up piece of laundry in the basket under a pee soaked pair of undies.  All I have to do is dump both in the washer.  I don't have to haul out a washtub, heat the water and scrub with the precious soap we made from our own rendered lye.  Ridiculous the amount of work it took to just live.

Knitting is soothing as I've already told you, but it also puts things in perspective.  It helps me remember that many of my problems are only small irritations.  Sometimes I wonder if it really is easier living with so much convenience.  The ease of my life allows me to think too much and make small irritations into gigantic problems.  What is wrong with working hard day in and day out, falling exhausted into bed in the evening?  You might get that day of rest and worship on Sunday, but I can assure you, that rest was probably as much work as my busiest days are now.  When you are busy you don't have time to think, only to do.  I know there are problems with that as well, but right now I think too much.  Right now I need to just do.  I need to knit while praying, knit while loving on my family, knit.  I need to understand that my work as a mother is important to my family, just as it was to families in the past.  Sure, my shawl isn't the only thing covering my little girl's backs, but my physical work takes care of their needs and their hearts.  My willingness to do the many little daily tasks to care for my family is a form of worship.  My faithfulness to their needs, even if it doesn't involve shearing the sheep and making the wool for each sweater is as important now as it was then.  My work shows them love, even the less essential work of knitting.    

Work, Worship, Pray, Do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you have a poem you would like to share, we would love to read it!  Just link on up.

Little Break

We apologize for the long break. I was busy working at my favorite flower shop for Valentine's Day, the kiddos were busy keeping Grandma entertained and Papi was busy working. We are now almost back to normal and will continue with pictures soon...

Thank you Grandma, for all your hard work. The kidlets had lots and lots of fun with you!