I had kind of a funny day yesterday. It was a really lovely kick off, with my mom coming to hang with the littles so I could take Dekker to school without everyone else. Normally we spend the rest of that one morning together, but it was my day to help at the preschool, which was completely fine, but I missed hanging out with her. She stuck around through lunch but had other things up that afternoon. Which, again, was fine. I hung out in bed and rested a little. I was feeling a bit emotional yesterday and needed the reprieve just as much as the kids did. But a certain child was bucking the system hard and ruined naps for the whole bunch. Keep in mind that all of the kids have colds. So a nap was pretty stinking necessary. But, cool. *sigh* I picked Dekker up from school, and thankfully he seemed happy. But once we were outside, he slipped on some grass. He aaalmost didn’t even go down, but in his general upset, he plunked down on the ground, and wailed like a crazy person. He couldn’t even really point to a spot that hurt. He was just wounded, somehow. And guys, he WAILED. Like, other parents came over to make sure he was ok and hadn’t broken anything. And he hadn’t. He had aggressively sat in grass. And I even say “aggressively” lightly. There is no bruise. No grass stain. No nothing. Nothing happened. After naps had been such a bust, and everyone was already wrecked enough for the end of the day, I had a pretty low level of patience. But, as always, I tried my best to roll with it. I kissed his leg and we walked to the van, him limping dramatically the whole way.
Because of the afternoon’s disobedience, the kids lost any tv privileges. Its been DAYS without any tv, and while I know lots of people’s kids don’t watch any tv, ours do. Its so handy for a little rest, to give their brains a rest and to slow everyone down. No one is running laps around my feet while the tv is on. No one is fighting when the tv is on. Its a nice calm time. This entire week, we’ve been without that nice, quiet stretch of entertainment.
The house grew chaotic once everyone was back in it, and I needed to do something. I’ve been trying to picture the house decorated for the baby party, but its always such a mess that I just can’t see past it. I TRY, but its just hard. Especially the kitchen! Yikes! WHAT a mess! Even with the dishes all done and put away, too many things live on my counter, or on the fridge, or on the island. Not to mention how dirty the cabinets are! Yikes! So I went on a rampage, which is logical, right? I got all the dirty dishes tidied and put away, and made an easy, practical plan for where things that have to live on the counter can go during the party. I went to put a couple of things in a cupboard, and that grew into a HUGE project of gutting the cabinets and deciding what actually needs to stay and what can really go because we never ever use it. We’re donating a ton of stuff to our friends’ garage sale, and this random purge added so much to that load!
When Brady got home, I was up on a chair, digging random pumpkin carving tools out of the back of a cupboard. I greeted him and then spouted off a hundred different things about what I wanted to get rid of and where things had moved that we were keeping. I had a list of other things that had popped into mind that I wanted to get rid of but hadn’t gathered up yet. I started talking party stuff and plans and he very politely listened and responded as he went around and hugged and kissed his whole family. Once my rant was over, he excused himself upstairs to go wash up and change, and my annoying, needy self followed him up moments later. I was SO ready for him to be home. The moment I plunked down on the bed to talk to him, I was finished. He lovingly told me that was fine, and encouraged me to take a rest. I couldn’t wind down, and kept spouting. I admitted how hard the afternoon had been and that I was struggling. He sat and listened and understood. He is truly the best man for me.
As we chatted, I heard the clinking of dishes. Real dishes. I thought about it. I wouldn’t put it past my kids to do the dishes on their own, honestly, but I had just done them, and there were only a few dirty ones in the dishwasher. Less than a minute later, Dekker showed up at our room and knocked on the door. He presented me with a bowl of Cheerios.
Now, to clarify, I hadn’t been crying, or yelling, or really showing any signs of struggle. I was in business mode, but that was the worst of it. So this was less of a “save mom’s life” move and more just a love move! I thanked him and kissed him and he scampered off, very happy with himself, as he should’ve been!
I stayed upstairs and ate my Cheerios while I watched some YouTube and made a list of things that I can buy in advance for the baby party. Basically all the non-food stuff. While I did that, Brady informed me through text that Dekker had tried to bring me a second bowl of Cheerios. He also insisted on taking our carpet sweeper to the living room rug. He showed up at my bedroom door one more time to bring me a cozy blanket from the couch. It was SO sweet.
Thankfully, after kind of a strange, overwhelming afternoon, Dekker really softened the blow. He will make an excellent husband one day. But until then, I’m VERY grateful to have him as my little man. I hope he does these loving things for everyone in his life. And with that, I hope I start liking cereal along the way…