Some days what is true just doesn’t match up with what I’m feeling. For instance: I am so in love with my children, and think they are the best. However, sometimes circumstances cause something inside me to go “snap!” Like when a voice goes above a certain decibel, or when someone decides to shoot a nerf bullet at someone else’s eye right at bedtime. I don’t feel the love when someone leaves the freezer just slightly open right before we head out the door, and I find out a few hours later. My feelings are pretty much the opposite of warm and fuzzy when puddles of special ice-cream have melted into the peas and corn. My feelings are a simmering pot of hot water when the dairy/veggie mush leads to an entire deep cleaning of the refrigerator and freezer. I am thankful I can go grocery shopping. But sometimes dragging five kids in the rain to my least favorite store makes my blood start a slow and steady boil. I have never had to do this before, but when one of my unnamed children decided to throw their flip-flop as high as they could in the middle of aisle seven, this mama had to climb the shelves like a ladder and pull it out from between the bags of flour on the top shelf. Excuse me if I step on your groceries.
I love being a mom, but there are times I don’t feel it.
The truth is, I am so incredibly thankful for our home. Yet sometimes my emotions start dictating thoughts of discontent over the color of my walls or the state of my sofa. Right now, our laundry room is being refinished. The floor is gorgeous. Soon the rest will be as well.
Until it is finished, I am living out the book, “It Could Always Be Worse”. If I thought my kitchen felt tight or crowded, a good solution is to bring the washer, dryer, linens, and a dresser in to join the chaos. Now I am cooking and canning while maneuvering around a dresser. I plop the kids wherever there is a clean corner of the table, which juts out into the middle of the kitchen. I have to crawl under the table to fetch the parchment paper or griddle. The laundry is quickly piling up, because when there is an average of ten dirty outfits a day (factoring in boys), going on a week without a washer, works out to be about seventy outfits needing to be laundered. It could always be worse.
So since the kitchen is a mess, we celebrated Nadine’s birthday at Hibachi. Their faces say it all:
I am so thankful truth is not based on feelings. I’m also thankful for rescued flip-flops, clean freezers, and laundry-free days.