If your home is anything like mine, there’s plenty of hustle and bustle from one thing to the next–and noise–and piles. Some people call it chaos. Right now it’s just my reality.
Make sure the kids are dressed for school. Feed the dogs. Put the basket of library books up high (so a certain dog doesn’t take one for a midmorning snack). Scramble with one kid to find missing sneakers. Oh, wait–library-book-munching dog also likes to cuddle with our shoes. “It’s in Nate’s crate!” I exclaim, half relieved and half irritated. Shuffle everyone into the car, exhale loudly, and we’re off.
Occasionally all the noise and activity is tamped down by quiet contentment. Ansley rocking and quietly singing to her doll. Luke and Reed sorting LEGOs for their imaginative creations. Me taking advantage of the relative peace to write, and chuckling to myself, remembering that *this* is what I thought motherhood would be like 95 percent of the time, not 2 percent of the time.
Then the three-year-old…To read the rest of this story on The Glorious Table, click here.