I am not awakened by the incessant trill of an alarm clock this morning, for what use would I have for such an instrument? The sun has not fully peeked it's way over the shadowy mountains and I am being roused. Mike leans over me and whispers, not words that I long to hear in the wee hours.
No.
"Jilly's sheets need to be washed when you wake up and she will need a bath. I changed her clothes and put a towel under her. Love you."
I moan a half-audible reply and roll over willing my mind to stop playing out the scenario that led to my being awakened against my will. Apparently she is not ready to sleep without a pull-up.
I sleep.
The sun is streaming in through a crack in the curtain landing directly across my eyes and making me squint. The little voice in my ear is in fact attached to a little body.
"Daddy change me and he say I need a baff..."
I would be untruthful if I said that I grumble at that. Jillian is so cute and irresistable in the morning with her sparse blond hair fanning out in all directions around her head like a golden halo, crackling with electricity. I scoop her up and smother her with kisses.
"Coffee first, then bath."
She giggles and trots down the hall. This is one of my favorite sounds in all the world. Toddler feet on slick wood floors in the morning. The coffee begins to pour into my cup and the smell alone is enough to perk me up. I fill the tub.
The bathroom is warm and misty and the coffee hot and delicious. Jillian splashes and balances bath toys on her head ignoring my pleas to not 'drink the icky bathwater'. I hear doors opening down the hall and then the sound of larger feet padding down the hall and into the kitchen. The fridge opened, the milk poured.
"MOM! The milk is almost gone."
And there is that. There is always that. The milk gone. We should buy a cow.
Jillian is scooped up into her pink princess towel and swaddled like a little piglet.
"I wanted my other princess towel, the girls one!" she demands.
She will have to get over it. I lay her down on the couch and go to her bedroom in search of a Jillian-approved outift and return with it in hand. Rainbow striped dress, pink leggings. I dress her and send her off to play in the schoolroom. Her little corner of the world loaded with dollies, all and sundry.
This morning we are back to school after a week long semester break. I sit at my computer readying the papers and work that need to be printed out to fill the work folders for the day. Caleb makes his way into the room, second to last child to make an appearance today. He is wrapped head to toe in his comforter dragging the end along the carpet like Linus. His lips are pouty as only the lips of sleepy children are. He doesn't speak and like a wild animal he is best not approached until he approaches me.
Flipping the XM radio on in my room, I begin to make my bed. I love making my bed in the morning and a day is not started unless the bed is made. It is cathartic for me to have a fully made bed. My one space that is tidy and clean and kept that way all day until we crawl into bed. A little tidying and then I head into the girls room because I have not seen Gabby's face at all on this fine sunny day.
She is like the dead. She sleeps cocooned in a fluffy blanket with only a tale-tale wisp of brown hair betraying her. I tug on the strand of hair lightly and then more roughly.
"Get up. Everyone is out of bed and you are wasting away in here."
She grunts, rolls over and snuggles in deeper beneath her blankets. I am nonplussed.
"Get Up!"
The covers fly back and she flings herself down from the top bunk. A blur beside me and the bathroom door slams shut. On with the day, I think to myself.
Ginny and AJ begin the morning with a spelling pretest. My usual caveat applies. Should they master the pretest with accuracy they can move to the next lesson. They do not and so they must forage ahead with the lesson for today. The elder girls also begin their spelling lessons and work independently and dare I say it, quietly.
Little giggles from the living room. I am engrossed in work with little time nor patience to check on the goings-on of the younger crew. The older kids are bent over their work, pencils scratching diligently on paper with the occasional rub-rub of an eraser.
"Come see my Cayeb-yand!" Caleb has come into the room and is apparently very excited over whatever has transpired in the living room. I walk into the room and the room is blanketed with...blankets. Every available blanket is spread across the floor of the house. We no longer have wall-to-wall carpeting we have wall-to-wall blanketing. He is so proud of himself and his little eyes are lit up so that I can see the intricate lines of his iris standing out brightly against the hazel background. Although inwardly I sigh, knowing that I will eventually be folding blanket after blanket, I smile on the outside. He is so proud. I let it be.
Back in the schoolroom the kids have finished their spelling and the elder girls have began their history reading. I sit down with Ginny and AJ to work on their grammar lesson. Today we discuss adverbs. Adverbs prove to be very amusing as are all grammar lessons with these two. I love that they make it fun by interjecting their own brand of humor while answering questions. Some copywork follows and I make a snack for the little houligans in blanket-land.
A moment of confusion. Gabby cannot find her literature selection on her nook. I was sure that I had purchased it but it looks as though I may have put it off. This is why I love the nook for school. I log on to Barnes and Noble and quickly purchase the book and soon it is winging it's way over WiFi and into their devices. Crisis averted.
A squabble. Someone has been up in someone else's business. I go play mediator for a minute but by the time I get there they have ironed out their differences. Jillian wears a stiff pout, her lower lip protruding further than most lips should ever be able to protrude.
"He is ok, he is just bugging me." says she.
The sun is high in the sky and without even a glance at the clock the kids tummies announce that it is lunchtime. They are clamoring for some food. I remember we are out of milk and as luck would have it we are also out of ink for the printer, this presents itself as a good opportunity to get Jilly out of the house for awhile. She squeals with delights and dances around the room. Before I leave I have to get the kids started on their math lessons. I sit with the elder girls and go over graphing coordinates and explain some long division to AJ. Ginny informs me that she 'knows how to do all this' and so I leave her alone.
"I get my shoes on and we can go in my stroller!"
I had purchased a stroller a couple weeks earlier in anticipation of our trip to the science museum. We didn't own a stroller anymore but I knew a whole day of walking would be too much for those little stick legs. Today would be the stroller's maiden voyage. We packed up and headed off to run our errands.
Jillian loves her ride in the stroller. We pick up some computer ink and then stop at the post office to get some stamps. I let her put a letter in the mail slot and she begs to do it again. Alas, I only have one letter to mail. At the grocery store she gives the bakery worker her sweet, shy smile and gets a free cookie for her efforts. She wasn't born yesterday, she knows how to work the system.
Back at home I sit the milk on the counter and promptly forget about it. The house is quiet which means one of two things. The kids are working or the kids are into some major trouble. Thankfully, the kids are working. The girls have completed their math and are studying for their mythology exam. Ginny has finished half of her math and she was right, she did 'know how to do this". AJ on the other hand has completed only one math problem. I am not pleased and to be frank I am pretty frustrated. AJ has been a natural at math since he began his schooling. His mental math is exceptional. For some reason the mechanics of Long Division ellude him. Over and over I explain, we do problems on the board, we go over the steps, I draw out the problem so he can see what each step is doing but it does not stick. This is going to have to be something we revisit tomorrow. I am getting tired.
With the younger ones finished with school and the little ones craving some excersize I send them all outside. I head back inside to set the older kids up with their new science curriculum. They are taking this course online so I get them all set up and let them have at it. They are so excited about it that their attitude rubs off on me and I go out to the backyard to spend some time with the younger ones.
"Get that one, we might need it!"
Ginny is walking around with a bucket and a stick, she jabs the stick at a roly poly bug and Caleb scoops it up and drops it in the bucket. The bucket swallows the bug up with all of the other critters it has been fed in the last few minutes. I'm not sure what they are doing but it involves bugs, buckets and water. I only hope it is humane. The weather is glorious, still and cool. The sun warms my back as I take a shovel and begin to till up the soil in my garden beds. Maddy has been diligently adding fertilizer to the beds. Rabbit manure. It has decomposed nicely and as I turn the soil a delightful amount of wriggly earthworms work their way up to the surface.
"Look at all the worms!" I yell to the kids.
They come running and are quite gleeful at our find.
"Yook at the yarvae!" Caleb yells.
The larvae are big fat and juicy looking. Japanese fruit beetle larve. The good ones. Caleb grabs a worm, dangling it between thumb and forefinger and screaming like a girl he runs to the bucket and drops it in. I turn the soil in the other three beds unearthing the largest worm I have probably ever seen in our garden. It is as thick as my middle finger and three times as long. The kids are amazed. I explain that if I cut any of the worms with my shovel they will not die but become two worms. This is mindboggling and exciting to them and they contemplate it for some time.
My soil turned, I notice that Ivan's top notch is shaggy and in his face. I grab some scissors and give it a quick trim. He is thankful that he can now see and rewards me with kisses. The littles continue to tramp around the yard, commenting on various things and toting the ubiquitious bucket of bugs and worms. I pick up scraps of plastic, old toys, broken toys, Caleb's sandals- HEY! That is what happened to Caleb's sandals! A pair of jean shorts. A Tee shirt. Uh-oh...does this mean someone is running around naked? No. They are all dressed and your guess is as good as mine when these clothes were shed. Satisfied that the yard is now well kept I head back inside.
The disaster that is the living room and schoolroom are starting to get under my skin. I know Gabby has a piano lesson in an hour or so meaning that a real, living breathing person aside from a family member will bear witness to the natural disaster that is my home. Must act quickly! I proceed to fold up all eleventy-billion blankets and put them back into the cupboard. The pillows are put back on the beds. Jillian's play corner is still in shambles and in a moment of pure insanity I decide to dump out the bins of toys and organize. I am almost done with that when the doorbell rings and Gabby's piano teacher is here. I apologize for the mess.
Gabby works on her piano while I put a movie on for the little ones so that I can finish cleaning without them undoing all the cleaning I have just done. Fat Chance. Caleb careens down the hallway dragging what seems to be the entire contents of his room behind him.
"OUTSIDE! Everyone go outside and no one is allowed to come inside until I say!"
"What about to go to da baffroom?"
"Except for the bathroom!"
They leave.
The front door opens and there is my love. 15 years of marriage nearly come and gone and I am still excited when he walks through the door. It' s as if all the tension in the air has lifted from my shoulders and settled somewhere high and out of reach. I give him a hug and make an under the breath comment about my day. He laughs. We barely even need to use words anymore. We just know.
The sound of the piano floats in the background and I lie down on my bed for a moment and close my eyes. The events of the day swimming around in my head, flashing behind my eyelids like a movie screen as I relay the happenings of the day to Mike. He listens patiently, he is so good that way. In my brain something clicks and reminds me that it is 4 0'clock and I need to plan some dinner. Something else clicks and I pass by the bathroom where Mike is showering and yell to him.
"I could be persuaded to have a date tonight."
"A date with someone or a date by yourself?"
"Well, it's not such a great date if I am by myself."
I leave it at that and go to check on the piano progress. Mike comes out and sets up the ironing board.
"Are you going to iron?" I ask.
We never iron.
"Yep." He brings out the Cub Scouts shirts and it makes sense now. Blue and Gold Dinner.
The doorbell rings while I am at the back of the house.
"Who is at the door?"
"A lady with short brown hair."
It's my lovely friend Lani and she is bringing me COOKIES! Homemade cookies! I am so blessed with wonderful friends who bring me a plate of cookies when I need them most.
I walk Mike around the yard yammering on and on about worms and larvae and gardens. He wanders off and I hear a shout. Not a good one. An angry one. The kind of shout you hear from your dad when you have done something really wrong and he is angry with you. Only it's not my dad, it's my kids dad. I walk around the corner and I see why. The lawnmower is wheeled out from under the table where it lives. And it has been there awhile. And it has rained.
I dash back inside to do a little interrogation while he cools his temper. I am not sure who moved the lawnmower but I suspect it's AJ. Not because AJ is naughty but because he is curious and he loves to invent things and build things. And he doesn't love to ask permission. AJ looks down at his lap, his hands flitting nervously hovering above his knees.
"It was me."
He is sad. I tell him that dad is upset and he is going to have to face it. I hear Mike come into the schoolroom asking about the lawnmower. Surprisingly, I hear Maddy.
"I moved it when I was filming. I am so sorry, I forgot. I just forgot."
Mike tells her she will have to buy a new filter as the one on the lawnmower is soaking wet. Her eyes are teary but she accepts that and apologizes. AJ kind of stand there realizing that he didn't actually do the crime this time. I like to think he sighed with relief on the inside.
It's really obvious now that a date night is in order. Mom is tired, Dad is grumpy. I pick up the phone and dial our favorite babysitters. Nanny and Popa. They will watch the kids. We dance a little secret dance of joy. Ok, not really. But we were happy. The kids load up in the van for the long super quick drive to Nanny and Popa's house. Dinner is good, we are stuffed, I finish a book in the van on the way home. The planets are realigning.
We stop to pick up the kids who have been mostly good which is comparative to Miracle Max's definition of mostly dead. Jillian drew on the T.V. with crayon twice. She will be going to bed early tonight. Don't tell her but she was going to bed early anyway.
7:00 pm
Jillian is asleep and all the kids are in their jammies. Or jammied as we call it in these parts. We survived another day. We lived to tell the tale. It's just another day...
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