Day Two

    Life happens. It's fluid and the best way I've found in dealing with the daily occurrences is to go with it. Don't fight it. It is what it is. Yesterday felt like a battle ground. Today was no where near that. Yet here I sit, my two older children still awake, waiting for Daddy to get home. It doesn't matter if I've gently told them that won't be happening for a while. Sitting straight up in their dimly lit rooms, they are waiting. More than a year's worth of months has he been gone in the past and in all that time, they have never been affected as much as they are this time.
    This is only day two. The girls have been in bed (well, since the first time I tucked them in) for two hours. Caelan refuses to go to sleep. A pile of books lie beside her. I've read a few of them to her, but she's waiting on Daddy to read to her. Evelynn has her own pile of books. She didn't want to pray about Daddy tonight. I did it for her. Then she tells me, "Daddy will be home soon. Then he will hug me and kiss me. I saw him go away on the plane. I can't see it anymore. Can you see Daddy's plane? Is he coming back soon? I want to see him." I don't think I can go with the flow right now. "It is what it is" seems a dirty, discouraging phrase in the midst of my children aching for their Daddy.
    The lights are still on. Caelan has finally dropped off to sleep. Evelynn is still holding out. Her pile of books is growing and she has a picture of me and Keith in bed with her. I peek in on her every once in a while and sometimes the picture is on her chest. Life might be fluid, but the emotional needs are not.

Butt Paste

    For three days I have looked at the thick, chalky white smears gracing the pillows and cushions on my couch. I would love to do something about it now or even on Monday night when my children were inspired to impress me with their butt paste/couch art. I don't know why, but I cringe inwardly at the term 'butt paste.' I even had a hard time typing it into the title, but there have been a few of you begging for the story. So, butt paste. I've used Boudreaux's Butt Paste since I had Evelynn. (You're welcome, Boudreaux, for the brand plug.) It's smooth and thick and does a great job in healing little bottoms.

    Monday evening was busy, the kind that's running around like a chicken with its head cut off busy, and I know, I've seen plenty of chickens in that state. It ain't pretty. We got home from Williamsburg, VA around 6:30pm and Keith still had to pack for his world travels. He packed, but a few things still needed to be done-- like the laundry from the weekend so that he could take some of those items with him. I took over at that point and let him sit down with the girls to watch a movie. All of them on the couch together was so sweet to see. They were watching Harry Potter. Evelynn and Caelan sitting next to each other toward one end and Keith at the other with McKenna sitting on his chest. I could see the backs of their heads as I ran around getting things done.

    I finally chose to pick up some toys that were between the TV and the couch. The sweet, picturesque view I had in my mind was anything but. Keith is asleep. McKenna is in LaLa Land, and my two darling oldest children are still sitting next to each other, smeared with butt paste. Thickly smeared. The whole tube. I was immediately thankful that it was the small tube and not the vat of the stuff with the screw on lid. Just the tube. Two cushions and three pillows. Caelan's entire face and half her hair. If it weren't an off white color, the stuff would make a great hair gel. Her hair was sticking straight up on top. It's on her arms and legs, too. Apparently, she thought it was lotion. Once Evelynn saw that my reaction was not a good one, she immediately said, "Caelan did it." Which prompted the question, "Then why is it on your hands and arms?" She didn't really have an answer, but quickly volunteered to go wash off in the sink.

    Caelan was not so happy a little later. That stuff is murder to wash out of hair. Oh, yeah, and Keith woke up the moment he heard my "Are you crazy/I can't believe you did this" voice. He decided to make sure McKenna was okay. Smooth. Just like the butt paste across the couch. It's so thick, it doesn't wipe off. It smears even more. Fun. So there it has stayed. Why? Because ten minutes of fun will now cost me at least three hours of labor. The covers have to be removed and washed. As if the green marker geometric shapes weren't enough... they had to add the butt paste.

Day One

• Children up by 7:30am. "Where's Daddy?"
• Breakfast: "I want cereal." Done. "I changed my mind, I want soup." No soup, cereal only half eaten, Goldfish demolished while I search the house for dirty laundry.
• Weekend trip recovery: laundry, clean house. Plan is to start in living room. Then the kids have an impromptu tea party in the kitchen. I was not invited. Until the Kool-Aid was spilled all over the floor. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• I'm a top/down kind of cleaner. Start at the top, all debris falls to the floor which is the last to be cleaned. It efficiently takes care of the cobwebs and crumbs on the countertops and promises a fresh floor. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• Kids playing happy. Start laundry. Start on the kitchen. Cleaned and mopped. It's beautiful. I feel at peace. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• McKenna is ready for naptime. Sweet. Not so the other two. Lunchtime for them. "I don't like that kind of cheese. I don't want a sandwich." Too bad.
• Laundry is cycling through at an even keel. Definitely wait until later to put the clean clothes away.
• Phone call. A five minute conversation with Keith. All is well. Caelan paints the bathroom with purple foaming soap. All walls must now be cleaned from the bottom to about four feet up. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• Can't clean it now. Caelan is without any remnant of clothing. Laughing, she tells me "I pottied in the floor." Fantastic. Reclothe her and clean up the puddle. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• McKenna is awake. The stench coming from her room precedes opening the door. Diaper on the floor. Poop everywhere. Shower kid and strip bed. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• Sweet. Washer ready for bedding. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• "Mom! Caelan is eating all your gum!!" Gum on face, shirt and couch. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• Clean up gum. Send Caelan to bed. Score: Mom, 1 poi...... "What are you doing??" Caelan is naked again, trying to put on a swimsuit. Not in bed, obviously.
• Time for family meeting. Explain importance of helping mom while dad is gone. See a glimpse of acceptance in Evelynn's face. Caelan laughs and goes back to bed. She stays in bed for a while, but no nap. I let her get up after about thirty minutes. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• McKenna is hungry. Fed. Cycled laundry. Sit down and take a break. Score: Mom, 1 point.
• "Mom! I need your help!!" Caelan decided to #2 in the portapotty and then dump it into the big potty. #2 EVERYWHERE. Lord, I think you hate me. Score: Kids, 2 points.
• Recovery mode: bathroom with #2, more laundry, movie time? Absolutely. WW3 over what movie to watch. Evelynn sent to bed for disrepectful behavior. Much is desired of the oldest. Not fair, but she leads the way. I was the oldest. It's a bummer. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• Pick up living room. Pillows back on couch. Oh, the butt paste. Right. Not happening today. Score: Mom, 1/2 point.
• McKenna happily playing. Caelan watching a movie. Perfect! The bedding can go back on the crib. First, have a talk with Evelynn. I reached her heart. I saw it in her eyes. She can watch the movie now. Score: Mom, 4 points.
• Clean and remake McKenna's bed. Go back downstairs. There are three go-gurt tubes squirted in the living room floor. Caelan. Another talk. Supervise her cleaning it up. Remind myself that she's two and not only that she's my precocious middle child. Score: Kids, 1 point. Mom, 1 point.
• Walk into kitchen. Are you freakin' kidding me??? Count to ten. She's two and not only that she's my precocious middle child. Lo Mein all over the kitchen floor. New Plan: Be in same room at all times or sit on her. Score: Kids, 1 point.
• In same room, she sneaks Play-Doh. Not happening. Jumps from the coffee table to the couch. Not happening. How about we color? Rips Evelynn's paper and draws more on the couch. How about we dance? Turn music on. Makes her want to jump on the couch. Falls over the pillows and hits her face on the console record player. Score: Kids, 2 points.
• Dinnertime: Soup, the Princess variety. "All right!!" but then "I don't want it."
• Evelynn tells me, "Mom, I want to be your big helper. What can I do for you?" Score: Mom, 5 points.
• I take the trash out. Caelan meets me at the door, running and yelling "Daddy's home!" Remind myself that she's two, my precocious middle child and doesn't know how to deal with daddy being gone.
• Bedtime: Bundle my babies in their blankets and listen to their prayers. "Thank you for Mama and Daddy. Keep Daddy safe. Help me to listen to Mama and be her helper." All previous Mom and Kid scores are obsolete. The good Lord is in this home. Tomorrow is a new day.

The Joys of Being Home

“Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing.” - Phyllis Diller

    I think I appreciate this quote more because of my experiences living where it snows a lot more frequently and heavily than what I grew up with. The effort of shoveling snow or cleaning the house is something I consider at some times to be pointless. When it snows here, I always have a mental debate with myself, trying to decide at what point I should actually go out and shovel that white stuff. Wait until it's done snowing? Get a head start? Shovel a path now? Shovel the whole walk? It is definitely the same quandary I have over cleaning house with three little ones constantly in motion.
    We have taken quite a few trips this summer, and I've decided to just laugh at how my kids settle back into home. I try my hardest to leave a clean house. Toys put away, laundry done, floors clean, etc., but it never fails that once we get back home all that work will be completely undone in a matter of minutes. I'm not kidding. It's like Christmas and birthdays all wrapped up into one moment-- the moment they walk through the door. Toys, dressup, cars, clothes, bedding, it's like they've never seen them before and it's  all new and wonderful. At one point, I used to feel that my time cleaning was wasted. Now it's just funny. It is more joyful to see them excited to be home and enjoying the blessings of our home. It will be clean again. I'm just not sure when.

Caelan loves to take all the clothes out of the dress up bins and her dresser.

Oh, Barbie... why do you come with so much stuff?

One car for each of my cuties. Notice even the curtains at the window in the back have been tampered with. The couch has green marker and Boudreaux's Butt paste on it (another very good story).

And the floor is sticky.

The Dragon and the Frog responsible for the fun. ;)

Oh, and it appears that I need to finish painting. Hmmm, maybe after I get it all put back together?