...the more things change. It's really the only thing we can count on, isn't it? I mean, people say death and taxes, but I like to look on the bright side and say that the only thing we can count on is change. And boy, how things have changed for our little family in the last couple of years.
We certainly aren't settled into our new normal of homeschooling days, along with big kid and tween issues. Yet, a lot has changed since the days of babies and toddlers needing feeding/wiping/dressing/helping, and the barely-holding-it-together couple under the strain of three preschoolers, a budget as tight as a vice, and a to do list driving us to collapse into bed after midnight laundry folding frenzies.
I sometimes wonder how I haven't exactly figured out how to be an adult in the last 20 years. I mean, what have I been doing with my time? But looking back, I barely had time to go to the bathroom. Much less figure out the meaning of life, organize my entire house and become a screaming success at my life's calling (if I even knew what that was). And I'm not feeling too bad about that at the moment. (I do have the other kind of moments, but not right now.)
You know those cool (or lame, whatever) glitter time out jars some moms make for their kids? (Or am I just spending way too much time on Pinterest?) Well, if you haven't seen one, it's a jar with some sort of liquid and glitter in it. Kid gets in trouble, mom shakes the jar, kid has to sit in time out until glitter settles to the bottom so they have time to calm down. OK, this explanation is way too long for the analogy I'm trying to draw here...
But really, life isn't like the glitter time out jar. It's not like the murky, glittery lack of clarity clears itself up in a matter of 12 minutes. It is clearing up, and the murk is settling to the bottom. I mean, I was thinking today of how little memory I have of when my babies were infants. The exhaustion, the overwhelming responsibility and confusion, the exhaustion....it's like a huge cloud covers my memories.
And even at "my age," it's not all clear. But ya know what? It's a heck of a lot clearer than it was when my kiddos were babies. In fact, looking back at the things I was writing just eighteen months ago, it's clearer now than it was then. And even if it's still not clear, even if it never gets totally clear, it's still all glitter. It's still all beauty, totally worth waiting for, and so amazingly delightful to look at.
We certainly aren't settled into our new normal of homeschooling days, along with big kid and tween issues. Yet, a lot has changed since the days of babies and toddlers needing feeding/wiping/dressing/helping, and the barely-holding-it-together couple under the strain of three preschoolers, a budget as tight as a vice, and a to do list driving us to collapse into bed after midnight laundry folding frenzies.
I sometimes wonder how I haven't exactly figured out how to be an adult in the last 20 years. I mean, what have I been doing with my time? But looking back, I barely had time to go to the bathroom. Much less figure out the meaning of life, organize my entire house and become a screaming success at my life's calling (if I even knew what that was). And I'm not feeling too bad about that at the moment. (I do have the other kind of moments, but not right now.)
You know those cool (or lame, whatever) glitter time out jars some moms make for their kids? (Or am I just spending way too much time on Pinterest?) Well, if you haven't seen one, it's a jar with some sort of liquid and glitter in it. Kid gets in trouble, mom shakes the jar, kid has to sit in time out until glitter settles to the bottom so they have time to calm down. OK, this explanation is way too long for the analogy I'm trying to draw here...
But really, life isn't like the glitter time out jar. It's not like the murky, glittery lack of clarity clears itself up in a matter of 12 minutes. It is clearing up, and the murk is settling to the bottom. I mean, I was thinking today of how little memory I have of when my babies were infants. The exhaustion, the overwhelming responsibility and confusion, the exhaustion....it's like a huge cloud covers my memories.
And even at "my age," it's not all clear. But ya know what? It's a heck of a lot clearer than it was when my kiddos were babies. In fact, looking back at the things I was writing just eighteen months ago, it's clearer now than it was then. And even if it's still not clear, even if it never gets totally clear, it's still all glitter. It's still all beauty, totally worth waiting for, and so amazingly delightful to look at.
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