When morning comes, there are a few brief moments to myself before someone comes with needing. Just a few moments to oneself before everything begins to flutter down the stairwell calling for mother. One must wash and brush and dress, put the face on...
maybe check some mail and tidy the kitchen.
But soon there is a voice, "mommy," drifting down the stairs, or louder, the eager stomp of a 13 year old boxer in need of some relief. Oddly enough, it is guaranteed that a second call will come from the awakening mouths of babes before the first need is completely remedied.
So it goes. Something is always left half done: a pile of bills, a stack of dishes, a basket of laundry, an email or twitter, for the more urgent call of a wet diaper or a hungry belly.
The most important part of keeping everything going is not to repeat work. When getting one outfit from the closet...I get all 3. I just do it even if they are not all awake because sooner or later I will have to walk back upstairs carrying someone.
Unloading the dishwasher? Leave out dishes for the next meal. Brushing one childs' teeth? Get them all in there at once. Fixing one drink? Fix 3.
Anyway, this is all beside the point: my day is like a furious ball of work that starts with just one little thing and before I know it there are 3 kids playing on the kitchen floor behind a certain "line" in the tile I call the "hot line" so I can see them and cook dinner without any airlifts to the burn center. Rosie is helping with dishes or dinner or dutifully rolling toys back across. She is the only child allowed on both sides.
Unfortunately for her, I do not think the reward for all the hard work is found in the same place. Her reward is of course deposited by automatic funds transfer into a savings account each pay period. If you ask her the for balance of her allowance savings account, she will be accurate within $5.
When morning comes there are a few brief moments to myself in which I usually reflect on my many blessings. The work is, well, work. There is no real pleasure in laundry or dishwashing of this capacity. Cooking is okay.
The only thing that makes all of the tedious bits not hard is the blessings of the childrens' voices and smiles and movements. The moments of realization of a new learned task or movement or word. I get to see all of that.
Anyway, Tatya is crying for me. Time to go.
Why it is worth all the work
