My Weeping Shadow

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Every night I look back on my day and wonder at a few of the things I did or did not do.  When all is quiet, it’s hard to truly remember how very trying all the noise really was.  When there are no more voices calling my name, I wonder why I was so irritated at that hundredth call for mommy.  I know there was constant activity all around me all day long, because of the evidence.  An apple core hidden here.  A stuffed animal under the table.  Loads of dishes scrubbed and ready for more carnage tomorrow.  Baskets of folded clothes, indicating they were once mounds of laundry.  The ever-emptying refrigerator.  Not to mention everything in my dustpan at the end of the day.

This morning started off with about a quarter cup of cereal.  Since that doesn’t divide between five children so well, I used some leftover bread dough for a monkey bread breakfast.  Served on my Italy plate, it was a splendid start to our day.  Then all of a sudden all I could think about was how long everyone’s hair was, and we had haircuts all around.  The boys got spiffed up, and Betty lost her baby mullet.  She did a great job, and her whole face looks older.  It matches her just-about-two personality.

Today I called her my weeping shadow.  After the morning cheer, she laid down great for her nap… except she never fell asleep.  A poopy diaper later, and she was not doing the whole nap thing today.  So we battled through many tear-filled moments.  She had her first time-out yesterday.  She is experiencing the “try one bite” at supper ordeal.  She understands every single thing we say, and is sprouting like a little seed in a jar of water.  Between my weepy shadow who couldn’t leave my side, math, geography, and everything else required of us today… supper ended up a last-minute outing where the kids were so enthralled with their surroundings that they didn’t eat.  Then we went to Matthew’s exercise class, and by the time we got home at 8 o’clock, my bearded husband was whipping out the pancake recipe for a late-night-second-supper.  The full moon was wreaking havoc on everyone’s ability to settle down anyway, so why not enjoy a few chocolate-chip pancakes before bed?  We did just that.  Betty relaxed her sweet chubby feet on my warmed up rice bag, and everyone ate their fill.

 I’m thankful for my messy life.  For the hair which shows growth.  Our daily bread, especially cinnamon and sugar-covered bread.  The beauty of a full moon.  Tears to show a heart alive, filled with emotion and the ability to feel.  I’m thankful for strength to do more than I feel physically able to do sometimes.  For creativity to color the mundane.  For chattering which makes silence more precious.  For grace upon grace upon grace.  For little shadows that need me to scoop them up and feel cherished as they are.


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