Welcome Home Pete

Fatigue is just part of the game.

He and I greeted each other with a hug. We st00d in the kitchen, sleeping on each others shoulders, until one of our kids asks to be lifted up into the hug with us. We don’t really rest until 4 other little bodies are completely passed out in their beds.

Even then we’re on call.

Hunger is to be expected.

Dinnertime comes at the same time – everyday.  Try as I may, to get my menu plans in order, sometimes life just gets in the way. What’s for dinner when we are getting ready to leave town, the morning after our son’s birthday party? Pickles, fruit roll-ups and frosting. Awesome.

Good thing Peter is a master griller! He cooked up some meat and made a meal. A nice expression of his love for me – a night off from service.

Family time fills my heart up again.

Inside, I fed the babies their bottles in the living room. Outside, squeals of laughter bounced through the open screen door hitting every square inch of this house. (Yes, I’ll admit, sometimes the squeals of tears loom around the house too.)

I guess it is all the little things, that makes my house a home.

It’s all the little things that I need strength to get through.

It’s all the little things that help me grow into a woman of character.

A familiar breeze, a loving haven, a sad story and a life time of joyful memories that make my heart fill up, time and time again.

The good, the bad, the everyday.

I could carry on about my day -

My salon appointment mix-up after the kids were in bed or How we left the cover off the sand box before it rained (again) or About how the ring I bought was the wrong size and needed returning.

But alas, the evening eventually came to a close. Slumber took me into the next day. And God carried me through yet another day full of life.

Even when my days blend together with driving, wiping, fixing, loving, teaching, yelling and trying; I will cloth myself in strength and dignity.

Love,
Jess

My days are all blending together. Thank goodness for my breakfast meal plan or I’d have to really question what day I’m living in.

Parks, meals, tears, farts, laughs about farts, more meals, toys, worship, books, worries, prayers, kisses, sleep, putting sleepy kids back to bed after sneaking in my bed, folding oh.my.word. the folding, joys, finances, time shared…

You get the idea.

I have big mushy life ingredients that mash together in a soup of treasured memories, present day routine & dreams for the future. Fluid yet chunky & good for the soul. Yes, I did just compare my life to soup. Can we move on now? Okay.

Some days stand out. You’d think it was the important days like the State Fair or Christmas. But, it’s always the ordinary days that stick with me.

• Like the time we declared it a pajama day and went to bed in the same p.j.s that we had on all day.
• When Molly found the tooth paste and used it as “paint” all over the bathroom walls, floors and doors.
• Or the time we spent every quarter we find in the van to buy ice cream cones at McDonald’s.

Yesterday was one such day. It started like any typical day (see the beginning of this post).

Then, we went upstairs to begin weekly allowance earning chores.

Ryan got right to work. Molly wandered in and out of the rooms, helping with chores, whenever she felt like it was her turn to use the squirt bottle. The babies slept.

Bathroom clean. Check. Bed made and stuffed animals straightened. Check. Laundry put away. Check. Extra helper chore. Check.

Next, it was time for errands.

After the babies were awake and fed again, we scurried toward the van in five different directions.

1. Ryan went straight for his bicycle and rode around the driveway.
2. Molly tried to find her shoes, bless her, she could only find one shoe of every pair she had.
3. Claire rolled around on a blanket in the entryway.
4. Leah rested, next to Claire, trying to put her thumb into her sister’s mouth.
5. I went to the kitchen, even though I had declared it was already time to leave,  to pack a lunch and pour more bottles. I had just realized it was already noon. Hungry babies and kids + errands in the van = not bliss.

In the van. Check. Can I please put “Get In The Van” on my to do list just so I can cross it off?  WAIT! Where’s my coffee? Oh yea, my to-go mug was on a shelf in the bathroom. Not sure when or why it was put there. None the less, I fly back upstairs to grab it, then, of course, reheat it in the microwave.

Two bank trips. Drive through, of course. The first bank was out of stickers and suckers. Really? Where is the manager? Is there not a Walgreen’s down the street? Buy some. Customer service these days. Of course, I don’t complain to the kids.

Instead, I try to bellow to the back of the van, some lesson to Molly about not getting a sticker because, “Little mouths shouldn’t say big hateful words!” (like, “I hate my car seat!”) Meanwhile, telling Ryan that the next bank will probably have a sucker for him, without letting Molly realize the only reason she’s not getting a sticker or sucker is because the first bank was out off them.

The second bank dutifully sent two suckers through the tube. I was sweet-talked into handing them over with promises from my kids to, “Never be mean their whole lives, to me or each other, ever again!”

Off to the park…part 2 coming soon.

Love,

Jess

My life is hurdling by, at a rate that is most typical. (at least to a young family with two kids and two on the way)

Long days that push my strength limits.

Longer nights that pull at my eye lids.

Fast weeks that provide much change or little change at all.

Motor months that feel like a splash of yearly repeated Holidays.

Blink-able years.

So yes, I do try and take it all in, blink by blink it goes on. All the while trying to figure out what “it all” really is anyway.

I would like to remember the endless knock-knock jokes, the ou-wies shown with pride, the yelling, the cuddling, the everything the “it all” means.

I would like to remember the feeling of being held by a loving God during laundry mountains, financial pressures, morning sickness, and sibling issues in my children and this-house-is-too-small agreements with my beloved Neat Pete.

Things will be different. Places will change. Priorities will shift.

My naturally brunette hair will be a distant memory.

My desire for alone time will be met and feel incredibly quiet.

My heart will be consumed as I balance my time taking care of my grand babies and aging parents.

But while I can, I embrace the moment {Just a blink. Just a breath. Just a stitch.} knowing I am living in tomorrow’s memories.

It’s amazing what a neighborhood drainage ditch can be to anyone with an imagination.

Love,

Messy Jessy

PS The twins are at 14 weeks and I am starting to turn a corner in my all-day sickness. yes! Though I am continuing my Unisom and B6 treatment for now. Thanks for those of you that inquired!

]]> http://justablink.com/2009/05/blinking-once-again/feed/ 2 http://justablink.com/2008/09/family-mosaic-summer-2008/ http://justablink.com/2008/09/family-mosaic-summer-2008/#comments Tue, 23 Sep 2008 04:06:59 +0000 Jessica http://themcwilliams.info/?p=810 Here is a tribute mosaic for Summer 2008. The season of learning by doing.

Ryan learned how to: ride a bike (with training wheels); play soccer; scale a climbing wall and the ABCs.

Molly learned how to: run; climb; say kitty and that screaming is funny.

Peter learned that: a year of working out can help hit the softball farther, that letting his wife take over the garage with 1/2 finished projects is not as bad as originally anticipated and making new connections with fellow believers has been worthwhile. (written by me about him)

I learned that: playing in the water is still fun; how-to use an orbital sander and my meal swapper group has been a HUGE blessing for without which I wonder if I would have cooked all summer!

I am struck more now (as a blogger) than ever before with the thought; my kids won’t remember a thing! Taking the time to photograph and journal about our lives together has been a gift to me. The chance to slow things down one post at a time.

Ry took a bike ride down to the corner gas station while I pushed Molly in the stroller. Which of course turned into a race. I am not sure who won but we were all laughing in the end. We purchased our treat and sat watching the traffic from a grassy spot on the bike path. Molly and Ryan took a moment to share a cold milk while eating M&M cookies. Ryan gave Molly an M&M from his cookie. I had picked most of hers off. I was impressed by his kindness. I gave him a smile and asked why he shared something that he too likes so very much. He squished up his nose and said

Well I guess because it fell off and went into the grass on the ground…so…I thought Molly could use it, that’s all.

Nice. Never been more proud!

I hope some memories seep into their beings as we navigate through these fleeting, precious and meaningful years.

I have a hand full of vivid but scattered memories of my own childhood during the wondertime years.
A few of the things I remember:

• Cooking or “muxing” with my Mom or Grandma in the kitchen
• Listening to Thriller on cassette tape at friends house
• Rubbing my knuckle calluses earned from swinging on the monkey bars
• Smelling shampoo flowing down the kitchen sink drain from having my hair washed while lying on the counter
• Tasting white bread at the neighbors house. Yes, thanks to my Mom I was raised on whole foods–all of the time

How impersonal. How selfish.

Before today I thought becoming a blogger meant that I would be one more of those people shouting from the roof tops, “Everyone needs to hear my special view of the world and the daily minutia of my family and work life.” I am proud of my family and myself for that matter but why would I need to write my journal for the world to see and comment on? Remember when diaries had keys? Now bloggers write like every reader is their family pet resting loyally at the end of their childhood bed in silence.

How pretentious. How boring.

I suppose having kids has changed my views of personal sharing due to the huge flux of “hey how are y…, why haven’t you updated your kids’ photo gallery online yet this week?” Guilt for not printing photos, jealousy of people that can update everyone often mixed with lack of energy for others all enter into my mind causing me to think, why not a blog? So here I am left with an “I guess something is better than nothing” approach to family connectivity, memory recall and self-reflection.

How suitable. How convenient.

My desire is to be able to look back and have a few more stories to recall than the one or two that typically get stuck in our auto playback. I am going to post the ordinary account of the details that makes us who we are as a family. But by all means when I do have some thing to report that is extra-ordinary you will be sure to hear about that too.

How sweet. How hopeful.