Remember when I wrote at Christmas that somehow, time was being spent on so many things, that my blogging (history keeping) would be a bit delayed?
I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever find that time again. I think it's gone Missing In Action. Supposedly we all have 24 hours in a day, 7 days in a week...but I don't think so. I recall trying to figure out how it was that Anita could get so much more accomplished in a day than I could. This was when our oldest children were very little, and she was writing her personal history, teaching seminary, and probably baking bread every day. I decided that I must have lost some of my minutes to decorating, and stewing over decorating, and she was faster at decision making on the whole than I was.
I have since pretty much given up on decorating, and every year get rid of more decor (I swear). But my laundry, dusting, food prep, grocery needs, and schedule juggling seem to have tripled (maybe quintupled). In looking back, I think I was managing fairly well until Max came along. I even did okay when he was a little less mobile. I could sit him on the floor with some toys, and he'd just be stuck there. Now however, he speed crawls from one room, grabs something like a remote, or batteries, or candles, makes a mad dash (still on his knees) toward the toilet, and lifting the lid --throws in the item with gusto. He empties my bathroom cupboards, turns on the tub; He stands and takes out all of my folded shirts and Jammie's. If kneel to fold and return the kitchen towels to their spot, he heads for the pantry and shakes the cereal boxes upside down.
I think the bottom line is that I have never been so busy. I keep wondering why I can't get on top and stay on top of my schedule (of Zach's and Abbie's, Sam's and Millie's too), but maybe, my expectations haven't been adjusted. Maybe I'm getting done the thick of the thick and thin stuff.
When on my 34th birthday, Star and I went to have an ultrasound for SkyMax, we were told there was a high possibility that he'd have down syndrome. My world crashed in around me that day, and for several afterward until I could make peace with the realization that I would love this child
come what may. I already loved him.
So now as he climbs up on the kitchen table and happily throws the fake fruit, or crawls out of his high chair --onto the counter, unscrews the cinnamon bottle and dumps it out on the floor --I have to glory in the curiosity and the resulting busy-ness for me. When I spend 3-4 hours at parent teacher conference, I must revel in the process and chance to be on the team that will educate these little friends of mine.
And as far as blogging goes (and other things)...I just may be running a bit behind for a while.
Enjoying a FHE treat on the porch during an early Fall rainstorm
