It all started when we came into the kitchen for breakfast. We had. . . nothing. . . to eat. So, being the "realmomma" that I am I threw up my hands and surrendered to *ice cream*. Which would have been wonderful, had someone (Bud-Jack) not gotten in the fridge yesterday and messed around with the thermostats, turning down the fridge to the "softened butter" setting and the freezer to "hard as rock ice cream" setting. After fighting it out with the tub of ice (cream), we sat down to our breakfast and family worship time.
My morning prayer time was repeatedly interrupted by various child needs, but I flowed with that. Bud-Jack woke M&M up from multiple naps while I was busy cleaning and doing school with G. I breathed my way through those figuring it was all going to work itself out in the end. But, having little M&M up and fussy at all the wrong times got in the way of a few items on my agenda.
I baked two loaves of honey-wheat bread -- with an accidental overdose of yeast, and two loaves of French bread that turned out just plain funny looking. My afternoon quiet time was non-existent. While attempting to play cards with G and Teeny while holding a crying baby, Bud-Jack pulled all the DVDs off the shelves, put them in a basket, brought them to the kitchen, spilled milk on them and then slipped repeatedly on the wet floor. After changing the poopy diaper I discovered after about the fifth fall, I shooed them all outside, but not before wrestling with the dishwasher and consequently shattering the coffee/tea pot. Yippee.
I did get the kids out and the baby down and *finally* had a moment to talk to God. "Lord, something is wrong. I don't know what, but I feel out of sync. Please, get me on track; give me direction." Which led me to the 21lb. smoked pork shoulder that needed to be divied up, bagged, and stored. 15 meals that baby will provide! At least!
But, at the end of it all, we had dinner as a family, went to our "small-town" library together, came home, . . . the kids went down all at the same time in spite of their collaborative mission to keep me from putting the baby down for the night. . . and I got to spend time with my husband. Right now he's off buying me some root beer. When he comes home, we'll settle down to read or watch a movie.