Today was one of our Fabulous Fun Fridays. We've been trying this most Fridays since New Year's, and sometimes the Fridays really do turn out to be fabulously fun. And some do not. Today was one of the days where I really fought against the urge to just live in "survival mode", something that is becoming more and more of a habit for me. The difference was I had made promises, showed my hand a few days early. And wouldn't you know that kids have much better memories for things you tell them that you are going to do than they do for things you tell them to do.
So I drank coffee and pretended that I wasn't drained from a night of being awakened by both children at the end of a week of middle-of-the-night Mama calls, then created just a little bit of leprechaun mischief. We made shamrocks and read stories, talked about pots of gold, rainbows, and Ireland's green rolling hills. Rainbow cupcakes were made (more tedious than I realized), decorated, and consumed. There was worship with Matt Redman while I cleaned the kitchen. But the day wasn't perfect. Potty training accidents happened and there was a three-year-old covered in washable markers. There were sibling squabbles and forgotten dinner ingredients.
A lot happened, but the day was most definitely experienced and lived, and not one that I just "made it through". There's a part of me that feels like it has been hibernating these past few months. I hope that there are many more of these to come, that this marks an awakening in me.
So I drank coffee and pretended that I wasn't drained from a night of being awakened by both children at the end of a week of middle-of-the-night Mama calls, then created just a little bit of leprechaun mischief. We made shamrocks and read stories, talked about pots of gold, rainbows, and Ireland's green rolling hills. Rainbow cupcakes were made (more tedious than I realized), decorated, and consumed. There was worship with Matt Redman while I cleaned the kitchen. But the day wasn't perfect. Potty training accidents happened and there was a three-year-old covered in washable markers. There were sibling squabbles and forgotten dinner ingredients.
A lot happened, but the day was most definitely experienced and lived, and not one that I just "made it through". There's a part of me that feels like it has been hibernating these past few months. I hope that there are many more of these to come, that this marks an awakening in me.
1 comment:
At least they were washable markers.
(((((hugs)))))
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