A Little Prayer, A Hug & A Kiss!

This morning my world felt like it was caving in.

Still no answers on the homefront with our mortgage company...How do I even plan for two months out?  The near future?   Will be even be here for the summer of '09? Where do I register Lexie for Kindergarten?  Is there any way we can actually survive long term in this California economy?  Or do we cut our losses and move out and onto another state that's more conducive to raising six children? {not referring to Utah}. Why aren't there any answers from the mortgage company?  Is it going to come down to crisis management?  There aren't too many options right now.  In the wake of this housing crisis, maybe it will be a blessing Obama will be taking the helm next week.  

My house has seemed so unorganized and discombobulated lately.  The kids are all complete and utter SLOBS.  And I'm not a nice mommie when I have to deal with slobs.  I hate slobby messes.  I don't like piles.  I don't like clutter.  I am not a pack rat.   But half our kids are--total pack rats.  They can find treasure out a stinkin piece of paper they might need next week that belongs in the dump.  They can find joy with a ratty old stuffed animal (which I HATE--they just clutter and take up space).  I secretly take them out of their rooms and give them to charity.  

They don't get the whole concept of wearing an item of clothing, then at the end of the day either hang it back up or put it in the hamper to be washed in two weeks.  Yes, two weeks.  Which brings me to my next gripe today:  I hate laundry.  Who doesn't hate laundry?  I only know one person {dear dear Allison} who finds joy & satisfaction in laundry.  The kids have enough underwear to last them two+ weeks and so they actually have to ask to have their laundry done.  Or do it themselves.  And most times, they have to fold it on their own and put it away if they want clean clothes.  Am I shirking my mother duties?  Or teaching self-reliance and empowering them?  All I know is that I hate laundry.  And this is how I deal.  I should just assign them each a day.  They can start it before school, I can finish it while they're gone and have their piles ready for them when they return.  You'd think with six kids I'd have this down to a science by now.  What we do actually works.  But I still hate laundry.  Maybe I just need to 'shaylafye' my laundry room and make it homey.  Laundry in an 'inviting' laundry room is still laundry...or is it?  But that brings me back to my first frustration--is it even worth it?  Will we even be here in a few months?

Is it so awful and just downright mean that we require chores and work around this home?  Talking to McKenzie and Monson, you'd think we're the worst parents in the whole wide world!   Serious entitlement issues, those two.  We provide a bed and a room for them...all we expect is that it's cleaned before they go to school with their beds made, and their rotating chores done.  One would think it was a death sentence by their constant reactions and defiance...like it's a new policy?  For reals.   I need to take my friend's advice (she did this) and remove everything from their room except for a bed, a few clothing items and a few other needful things.  Then they can earn them back.  In the heat of the moment one day, I'm sure that's what I'll resort to...creating more work for yours truly, but driving a serious point home! 

I let our cleaning lady (heaven bless her soul) go because we just can't afford it right now.   Yesterday I spent literally ALL DAY while the kids were at school to deep clean the downstairs in between changing diapers, feeding hungry little girls, etc.  I even put the little ones to work doing windows.  Is it SO MUCH to ask that it remain clean for a couple of hours?  Is it unreasonable to expect happy faces instead of whining about doing chores when they get home from school?  I am a taskmaster, I know that.  Maybe they just need 20 minutes after school before I barrage them with my expectations.  Now that the kids have a little bit more time with less extra-curricular activities I thought they'd be well-served by once again being responsible for cleaning their bathrooms.   Now I'm having second thoughts.  It's a time bomb in those bathrooms!  Half of it, I realize is Hurricane Noddy rushing through and dumping out drawers and cupboards after puddling the room and herself up.  

Which brings me to the next one...Our toddlers haven't ever been as 'noddy' as Viviana.  I can hear her upstairs right now...scooting my vanity stool up to the counter to empty out my makeup and break half of it along the way, while spreading the other half on the floors, herself, and the walls.   She doesn't get it, that sweet unsuspecting Viviana.  Actually, that's not true.  I think she does get it.  And she is constantly wanting to see how far she can push it.  Constantly!  I finally had to resort to giving her a little swat (a gentle one) on the fanny when she didn't obey today.  I don't believe in 'spanking,' per se, ...but she was shocked and did get her feelings hurt.  It worked.  Maybe now I'll have a way to teach her to not go into the street?  She has boundary issues there too that the rest of them haven't had.  She has been more difficult all the way around...with reason.  Our little noddy, I mean miracle. Perspective.  Perspective.  Perspective.

So with all my frustrations (that really aren't so bad in the grand scheme of things, I realize, that but don't tell a hormonal woman that)  I found a quiet spot {why is it always the closet or the bathroom?} and knelt down to gather some quick sanity, express my frustrations, express my gratitude for the sweet little children that are causing the frustrations...and then asked for some answers and that through it all I would know the direction in which to take.  

Right at the end,  in strolls Vivs, all somber and loving.  She straightened out my folded arms for me so that I could pick her up and she jumped into my lap, put her head on my chest {proceeded to wipe her snotty nose all over my clean shirt} and said "mom-mie" and then planted a slobbery kiss on me.  This is what we live for.  This is what we'd die for.  Despite the swat I planted on her fanny 5 minutes earlier, she just wanted me to know she loves me, she wants me.  She needs me.  She needs me SANE.  And Heavenly Father knew it too.   That's what I needed right at that moment.   I wouldn't say my frustrations were all better and that everything is honky dory now.  But my perspective is better.  I'm a happier mom and I can breathe without feeling suffocated.  And then off to the girls' room I went for the next 2 hours to help them organize, throw away and clean up a disaster.   See?  That's all it took.  A prayer, a  hug and a kiss.  Simple, really.