An Award-winning Day

Oh my goodness what a day. I sat down to write something and decided, no, not before I get into my pajamas. And wash my face. And also drink some wine. So I got up and left this screen to do just that.

And I'm back.

The good thing about today, since I'm going to be (a bit) positive, is that no one had to go to the emergency room. Also, the fire department was not summoned to my house. No one tried to throw objects from a second story window or build a bomb or help me cook dinner (because while I appreciate the effort, it never ends well). We all went to bed with ten fingers and ten toes. No one got an eye poked out. No one is bald.

So that's good.

Low points there were a few. Let's start with early Mass, where the boys were very well behaved. But there is one boy, God bless him, who is suffering the tummy troubles the rest of us had early this week. At one point during Mass this child passed a gas so horrific the man seated behind us let out an audible groan. I spent that hour focused not on the beauty of the sacrament, but on that boy, his tummy, and the brother-victims seated next to him. Could you please, I wanted to shout, not plug your nose and give a thumbs-down sign every. single. time. he toots? I get the picture! He stinks! We'll survive.

So there was that.

And then there were Wii issues. Which I knew were coming, but frustrating nonetheless. Don't get me wrong -- I am loving this thing. It's just, today, someone was focused so intently on becoming a "Professional Bowler" that he was shutting out all the other players. He got a Strike Turkey and was invited to start working on his professional status. And that caused some agitation among the lesser bowlers.

So there was that.

And then dinner, where my idea of rising to the occasion was letting everyone have frozen waffles -- toasted and with syrup, mind you -- seated on the floor in the front room while watching a movie. A movie on television that we already own! But I prided myself because, hey, the food was hot. And it wasn't corn dogs. (Note to self: get rid of 36-pack of corn dogs in the freezer and replace them with organic corn dogs.)

So yes. My menu/shopping/cooking skills are bumming me out.

And then tonight, after a nice hike, and burning our tree in the firepit (which went quicker than some would have liked, thus causing yet more agitation), and that delicious meal, I finally got them moving toward baths. And at one point, just as I finished feeding Henry and snuggling him into his crib, I heard a fretful cry from the tub.

"Mooooommmm! Come quick. Come quick!"

I ran toward the bathroom, and swung open the door to find noone drowning or choking or with soap in his eyes. Just a boy covered entirely in bubbles, save his nose and mouth.

And I decided I would laugh. What else could I do?

A few minutes later, I passed Paul in the kitchen as I shuffled two boys towards pajamas, and he brought two boys their towels. We smiled at each other, in the midst of the frenzy, and I took a deep breath.

We are in this together. Thank the Lord for that.