It's becoming increasingly clear to me that almost everything I manage to accomplish around here can be considered a small success. I always seem to have about thirty things going at one time, but nothing big to show for it at the end of the day.
Or maybe I need to scale down my definition of big success from "writing the Great American Novel" big to "having one completely clean room somewhere inside my house" big.
It's all semantics, my friends.
I turned the kids loose in our unseasonably spring-like weather yesterday, and I let them get as dirty as they wanted. That's huge step for me because I am not too fond of the mud cleanup. In fact, it's what I dread every spring - the mud.
Instead, I took a deep breath, put a laundry basket at the back door, and set them free. They shoveled dirty snow, they found mud under the snow, they jumped in puddles; the splatter factor was impressive, but I said nothing.
When they came in, I calmly helped them deposit all their muddy clothing in the basket, and while they put on clean clothes I took the basket to the laundry room immediately. I treated the stains and washed and dried the whole load before bed last night.
And we all went to sleep happily.
While the kids were outside I washed the kitchen and dining room floors instead of going on Facebook.
I was tempted to list this as a big success, but I didn't want to admit how lame I am.
Fiver had a colossally bad day at school yesterday. Crash and burn would not be too strong a phrase to use in this situation. I pretty much lost what little cool I have, and scared the kids by just sitting down in the living room and crying.
I called Rob and at one point in our conversation I told him that I was so sad that I felt I couldn't look ahead to a time when every day was not fraught with emotion and stress. I knew that if I could just change my mindset, I would be able to pull myself out of sadness, but I just couldn't seem to muster the strength to do it.
Then two things happened:
As I was doing the dishes and getting ready for choir practice, the refrain of one of our songs popped into my head.
The title? "Nothing is Impossible with God"
I couldn't get the lyrics out of my head, even though we hadn't sung the song in a while, but eventually another thought replaced the song.
The thought? This quote from Anne of Green Gables:
Anne: "Haven't you ever been in the depths of despair,
Marilla: "No. To despair is to turn your back on
When I arrived at choir, I pulled my music out of my box, and there on the top I saw the music for "Nothing is Impossible with God." We are singing it at Mass this week.
I took the hint that was coming at me with a huge neon sign.
While I still don't know what the heck to do for or with Fiver sometimes, I'm going to remember to take it one day at a time. I can't worry about how he's going to be in seventh grade, I have to focus on how I can help him in kindergarten. That's a big enough job for today.
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