About Me

I am a proud wife and mother, and a born again Christian. I work from home as a writer while taking care of Miss N, our six-year-old, Miss M, our four-year-old and Miss C, our newest bundle of joy. Life is crazy but so much fun!

Thursday, February 28, 2013

The Scheduling Dilemma

I've been thinking about our schedule lately. It's really pretty crazy, and frankly, I am missing my big girl.

My typical day is this: get up in the morning, feed the family, make lunches, send them out the door, work for three-ish hours, pick up Miss M, bring her home for an hour and a half, pick up Miss N, go to whatever after school activity we have, come home, homework, dinner, baths (if we are lucky) and bed so we can do it all again the next day. Somewhere in all that I need to find time to go to the grocery store, cook meals and care for a very busy baby, all while juggling my business as well. On days Miss M doesn't have school it's a bit less harried, but that will all change. Next year is kindergarten.

I miss the days of preschool a few days a week, playdates and going to the mall just to play. We haven't been to the children's museum in ages. My mantra of late has been "There isn't time."

We are over scheduled, but the problem is I don't know what to do about it. We have piano lessons and swimming lessons and church, so three evenings out of five are booked. The difficulty is, my kids can't swim. I feel very strongly that they need to swim. So that's non-negotiable in my mind. Church is as well. Piano is something I want my children to learn, as it provides the foundation for music and also a basis for ministry, and besides, Miss N is actually pretty good at it to this point. So, until they offer it at the school during school hours, I have no choice but to do it after school.

Miss N never gets the chance to just play. She gets home from school and activities, then it's homework, piano practice, dinner, possibly baths and bed. No wonder she'd rather be at school than at home –we never have any fun around here. She's tired, cranky and the only time I see her is during the "witching hour" when we are all at our worst. I miss her.

So what can I realistically cut? Nothing. So, we will plow through this year with me never seeing my big girl, and hating every minute of it.

Because I don't know what else to do.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Catching my Breath

Last night, I held baby girl a little tighter, snuggled her a little longer.

 Miss C, Nine Months
 It was only a brief second. I looked away from her to see her big sisters in the pool. She was carefully confined between me, the well-railed edge of the parent viewing balcony, and a bench behind us. After watching her sister perform a new feat in the water at swim lessons, I looked back down and she was gone.

In the two minutes or less I had my eyes off her, she had crawled over the ledge of the bench and to the top of the full flight of cement stairs. By the time I screamed her name, leaped over the bench and got to her, her hand was out to start the tumble down the stairs.

I scooped her up in my arms, heart racing at the thought of what almost happened, took her back to our spot and kept not only my eyes, but also my hands, on her the rest of the time. When it was time to leave, I shuddered when I saw the rail next to the stairs. The perfect height for her to try to pull up on, yet wide enough for her to slip through when she fell, that rail caused me to realize just how close I had come to losing my sweet baby girl to a headlong tumble down concrete steps. Had she gone for that rail bar instead of the top of the stairs, I would not have gotten to her in time.

Last night I spent much time thanking my Lord for his protection of my daughter. I realized, once again, that no matter how careful are as a parent, there are simply dangers you cannot anticipate, mistakes you will, inadvertently, make.

I remembered the time that Miss M was just a few feet ahead of me in the parking lot of our local grocery store, happily walking to the car. Before I could see what was happening, a car started backing up, almost instantly after turning on their lights. As I screamed her name, I saw the fender bump into her thigh. Thankfully, the driver heard me and stopped, and Miss M was none the wiser. Still, her little life flashed before my eyes.

Each of these times, I am reminded that life is but a vapor. We really don't know how long we have these precious children in our lives. We must make the most of every moment, because before we know it, it will be gone. They will be gone or grown, and all we will have are our memories.

And as for me, I know I will take a break from the computer screen to cuddle my sweet and final baby a little more today.