-Mother Theresa
Today was one of those days that occur every so often wherein I walk around muttering under my breath and asking the good Lord why in the world He allowed such half-baked, unprepared, mentally deficient people to become the providers and authority figures over more than an average number of helpless children.
No, really, why?
As we pulled into our driveway late today I could tell that the next few hours might be challenging. My attitude was ... how shall we say?? .... "edgy", and we were behind schedule. I scrambled to make the dinner that Paige requested, begged everyone to be responsible and do their homework without me having to crab, plead, and bribe. I told Lydia and Phoebe if they didn't fight I'd feed them dinner. Troy took off to go to the Harbor House to check on those 8 teenagers and 8 kids and see how things were there. Time got away and all of a sudden we're eating dinner at 7:30. (We usually eat at 5:30 and go to bed at 8p)
Exactly zero of six kids got any one on one time from either of us tonight. I cannot confidently say that the homework is done well or even at all. I asked them to wash butt-cracks, arm pits, and feet and at this late hour can neither confirm nor deny if they succeeded at that.
We're in a streak. It's not a winning streak. We're staring at too many needs that we only half meet. There have been too many nights where all of a sudden it is after bedtime and we're not where we need to be with homework, human interaction, helping one another, and probably even some other H words that don't come to mind right now.
We had bright ideas about doing special Advent devotions with our kids. (As in every night.) Tonight made night two in a row without devotions. I believe Troy actually said "It is too late, this won't work." (I did not disagree. They were already cornholio and we hadn't read one single word yet.)
"Advent" means something different here. Advent at our house is a time when the kids are anticipating the arrival of capable grown ups to run the show and create some order.
It could be a long season.
When I plopped down to answer emails and lament our cruddy parenting ... I was pleasantly surprised by two things.
One, this fun photo Evan posted that he took at the Harbor House.
Two, this note was sitting on my desk -
"Hey mom here is a dollar it's from me Hope.
I give you permision to do anything you want with it.
love Hope"
Suddenly everything seems better.
