a work in progress

Sometimes I think this motherhood business is, aside from that whole tending to and helping form the immortal souls of our children thing, one continual lesson in time management.  In fact, I might go so far as to say that after putting someone else's needs (or several someones') before one's own, time management might be the next lesson learned -- or at least taught -- in Mom School.  I wouldn't exactly call myself an eager student of this exercise in self-discipline, but nonetheless I am still enrolled and sticking with it.

Over the past six months I've adopted a couple of strategies to better manage time and domestic responsibilities.  For example, I now consider the time between our arrival home from school until the time we have dinner together as my "kitchen hour," a term and concept I learned from The Happiest Mom.   After school snacks are dished up; water bottles and reusable lunch containers are washed; folders with school paperwork and things that need my signature/attention/action are assessed; the dishwasher is unloaded; and dinner preparations are undertaken.  All of this an attempt to get dinner served sooner rather than later, since we only have a little while between my beloved arrives home from work until Lights Out and want to make the most of it.   

Another area I've been working diligently on is laundry -- specifically, the folding and stowing of laundry.   The sight of an overloaded "clean" laundry basket (denoted as such with labels on the handles and separate from the baskets we use to collect clothes that need to be washed) with clean clothes spilling over it and all around is so very discouraging that I usually keep right on walking past it.  If I can keep it to one or two loads of clean laundry to fold at a time, that's far more manageable.  The bambini are responsible for putting their laundry away.  They each have their own ways of fulfilling this task.  The elder lad employs his big rig.  The younger lad makes his arms into a forklift to carry his clothes.  The elder lass hugs all her clothes to her body and flits to the closet on tiptoe.  The younger lass -- of course -- makes sure we know which clothes are hers: "I shirt."

And then there is the subject of bedtime -- as in mine.  I'm still the most obstinate sleep fighter in this household, staying up later than I ought to most of the time. In the past several months I've been working to change that.  In the past week, I haven't done so well to that end.

All of these concessions, studies, and strides in time management are done in the name of a more smoothly-running household thanks to the comfort of routine and clear expectations for all.  Although I am still trying to figure out how -- or whether -- to fit in little (or not so little) projects here and there, the effort is paying off as each of these salad days draws to its conclusion.

Thank you, Lord, for this day and for all your many gifts and blessings...

moments of greatness

Twice now in the past week there have been moments best described by that scene in the 1989 movie Major League (much of which I can quote) when the team manager Lou Brown comments to Charlie Donovan the team's general manager that things are "starting to come together". 

As we prepared for a little getaway to my parents' house last week on a day off school, the bambini (with some coaching) packed up their "pack packs" and play clothes the afternoon before so that the next morning we'd have fewer things on our "to do" list.  The morning of our departure when excitement was high, they each pitched in (pardon the pun -- that was fortuitous) according to their ability to fill water cups, vacuum the kitchen floor, help siblings get shoes on, etc.  We were on our way much earlier than on previous occasions, which meant we had more time to play. 

This afternoon we made a trip to Target after school for essentials like yogurt and bananas.  I had my reservations about making this trip, as in my mind a trip to the grocery store with four young children during happy hour might just qualify as the opening for one's cause for canonization (kidding! I'm exaggerating again.).   However, it had to be done.  So we did it.  On the way into the store, I gave a little pep talk about us working as a team just like we did before we went to Mimi and Papa's house last week so that we could get through the store quickly and be on our way home.  There were a few shenanigans but nothing serious, and no one got run over by the "brother cart".

It's moments like these that invite me to say with pride like Lou Brown that this is "my kind of team."  Of course, the very next moment there might well be an outburst from one or more children following some perceived or real injury such as the presumptuous swiping of a fresh library book for one's own perusal (the nerve!), and we are right back to normal -- whatever that is -- but they're still "my kind of team".

multitasking

I can easily think of 85 things that need to get done around here at any given time (I *might* be exaggerating, but only slightly.  Hyperbole is one of my favorite literary devices.).  The question is, where do I begin?  In an attempt to accomplish as much as I can, I try to have several things going at once: start the washer so it can be going while I'm unloading the dishwasher or cooking or diapering someone.  Open several tabs in my Internet browser so I can shuffle among them while one page is loading.  Stick something in the microwave while I'm dishing up something else.  You get the idea.

Oftentimes this multitasking goes on in the midst of my discussing the fleet of real-life Mack trucks my four-year-old lad dreams of driving some day while stepping around the contents of my plastic food storage drawer now emptied by my nine-month-old lass and fielding requests for play dough, drinkable yogurt, or Goldfish.*

*This is what it's all about.

The movie Cheaper By The Dozen with Clifton Webb and Myrna Loy was one of my childhood favorites.  It's the story of Frank and Lillian Gilbreth, pioneers in the study of efficiency, and their twelve children.  Naturally, I try to integrate the best of their efficiency principles into my time management approach (such as it is).  In some respects, though, that approach can be summed up in one word: triage.

There's something to be said for scheduling various domestic tasks for specific days and/or times, and I do try to do that.  But in a household with young children, the best laid plans have to remain flexible.  The balancing act between handling domestic tasks and being present to my bambini is an art, I realize.  The bambini will be little for only a brief season in our family life, while the housework will always be here.  It *does* need to get done, and they need to learn the importance of helping to maintain our home as a way of showing gratitude for the blessing from God that it is.  They often do help me with the laundry and cleaning.  We use non-toxic cleaners whenever possible (like vinegar, hydrogen peroxide, and baking soda) for our health and that of our environment. 

Still, the days of early childhood are ones meant to be spent playing, laughing, learning, and loving.  We can do that while taking care of domestic duties for a while, but when my two year old says "I just want to swing", like he so often does these days, I want to be able to take him to the playground and let him do just that.  Before long, he and his siblings will be into other things.

Until further notice, please address all correspondence to my laundry room.