A Day in My Life

Today my morning started off not so great.  Firstly, as usual, the alarm went off when I wasn't ready for it.  I hit the snooze button not once, but twice, then had to rush to have the world's quickest shower and dress before my day home opened.  Then, as children began to arrive, and I had to move quickly to feed and dress my own children and get my 7 year old out the door for school, I discovered that some of my day home children were, for lack of a better word, cranky.  Early naps for them, and lots of coffee for me and a quiet table top activity of plasticine and cut out tools has given me a moment of quiet and reprieve.  It won't last long.

Even now, as I type, I have to keep reminding my 2 year old not to eat the plasticine, and I can hear one of the babies stirring over the monitor.  In half an hour I will begin preparing lunch for 5 children, probably forgetting to feed myself until later in the afternoon when my stomach reminds me that I too need more fuel than just coffee.  Then my afternoon will be comprised of cleaning up after the little ones, who inevitiably throw a lot of the food I have so thoughtfully prepared for them, keeping in mind that I need to give them a meal with 4 food groups and healthy ingredients, onto the floor.  Whether my 2 year old will nap this afternoon or not is a bit of a crapshoot.  If she does, we'll have some quiet, if not, she will be nice and cranky by supper time, and yet more food will end up on the floor.  You have no idea how many times I sweep and wipe and mop my floor every single day.

Then, because it's a beautiful day, I will take the kids outside.  Three children under the age of 2, and one 4 year old, all needing boots, mitts, jackets, snowpants, and all of their gear on just to walk four or five steps to my back yard takes about twenty minutes.  Then, I let them run around, play, get dirty...all except for the littlest baby who will eat things off the ground if I put her down.  But she doesn't want to be held either, and doesn't want to sit in a stroller or wagon...so it's a constant keep-my-eyes-peeled-for-random-objects-in-her-mouth kind of afternoon.  But, this is my job.  It's what I do.

Next, craft time.  With family day approaching, my theme this week after Valentine's is families (duh).  So, we will make some kind of family themed craft, which will involve glue, markers and a great many other messy, have-to-clean-up-again kinds of things.  And of course, I will have to make sure the babies don't get a hold of the markers, oh my.  That is always a disaster.  This is why they make washable markers...

Then, after nap time is over and crafts are finished and cleaned up marginally, my 7 year old returns from school with all her boisterous noise and energy.  This is the craziest part of my day, hands down.  The time between 3:30 and 6:00 when my day home is closed is always nuts.  I have to make sure kids are changed, fed snacks, entertained and packed up ready to go for their parents, while doing dishes (because let's face it, I haven't even touched them yet today and I have to have some clean plates for supper) and cooking a meal.  PS.  I hate cooking.  It happens every single time that a parent arrives in the middle of something bubbling over on the stove top or charring black in the pan.  You're welcome family.  Enjoy.

After supper is a frenzy of cleaning, homework, showering children, stories, bed, sanitizing toys, bathrooms, surfaces, and planning for the next day.   I try to get all this done by 9:00, so I can actually sit down and have some time with my husband, watch a few television shows, work on writing projects, or sometimes, I just fall asleep on the couch.  And of course, the whole time, I am making sure I'm connected to whatever social media outlet I use... Have to be plugged in at all times. 

That's pretty much a day in my life.  And, I can't really complain.  While it's busy, and I'm usually really tired, it's worth the effort to soak in the moments I treasure with my kids and my family.  Today, so far has been hectic, (it's actually taken me the majority of the day to even finish this post), but I am thankful.  It started off on a sour note, but that doesn't have to dictate the whole day.  So there it is.  Another day I am thankful to be alive. 

"Doesn't matter if glass is half empty or full, what matters is whether you have a glass." Octavia Spencer

Regret: A Memorial

I am not one to live with regrets.  It's something that I feel is counter productive - much like the feeling of guilt.  Guilt and regret go hand in hand, and there is really nothing good that comes from holding onto either feeling if one is to live a happy and full life.  They do have some purpose though.  My thinking is that guilt and regret serve to help a person change so they don't come across similar situations in the future.  But once a change has taken place, that regret shouldn't reside in you.

That said, I am feeling pangs of regret this week.  Monday was my grandad's memorial service, and my family and I went.  It was very casual, as he would have wanted, and some of his old friends and family got up to tell stories about him.  It was open to everyone.  The thing I regret is not saying anything.  At the time, I could think of absolutely nothing to say.  Isn't that horrible?  I wasn't close with him, but in the past few years, I had gotten to know him a little differently, especially when his health began to decline.  There was love between us, and I regret not sharing that.  So, I thought, to help myself let go of this, I would write about it.  This is what I should have said:

My grandad wasn't a man of many words.  He was a man's man; a hockey playing, beer drinking, rodeo man.  He was, for lack of a better word to describe him, tough.  I don't have any funny stories about him, but there are a few things that he gave me.  I will take these things with me for the rest of my life, in his memory.  My grandad and I didn't have long phone conversations, or even long visits, but I know that he thought of me.  He never missed sending me a birthday card and Christmas card, even after my grandma passed.  He would always put something in the card, be it cash or a gift certificate.  I know for a fact that he thought of me.

Grandad wasn't the most affectionate person either.  But what I remember of him was that he always had a smile ready for me.  Usually, when I visited my grandma, Grandad was on the couch watching some kind of sport, but he always had a smile.  I always knew he had a soft spot for me.  I knew he looked forward to my visits.  When he was moved into palliative care, he would light up when we came into the room.  My visits, noisy children and all, seemed to bring him happiness.

From my grandad, I will take a kind of strength and resilience you rarely see these days.  That man could withstand just about anything.  He had terminal cancer, and wasn't supposed to live as long as he did, but he continued on.  He was in pain, but he rarely complained.  He kept pushing.  In my last conversation with him, he told me that he'd be seeing lots more of me, and not to worry.  The man had a collapsed lung, a broken hip and was experiencing kidney failure, but he wouldn't give up.  He told me he loved me.  I held his hand and cried.  He had absolutely no physical strength, but wouldn't let go.  He was amazingly resilient.  In the end, his ailments overtook him, but I can tell you this:  he fought tooth and nail.

I will take a knowledge that though he didn't really know how to show it, he loved me.  He thought of me, and he enjoyed my company.  I will always remember his strength.

Thanks Grandad.  I hope you are at peace now.