It's amazing that I can still eat after what I had to clean up this morning, and yet here I am, chowing on my cold cereal, ignoring briefly the screaming toddler at my feet. I swear, I'm not cut out for this. But when I think about all the little crises I deal with on a daily basis and realize that we're all still alive, especially these little people God mistakenly entrusted to me, I think that maybe I could do anything. I could climb Mt. Everest, except for the freezing my butt off and the lack of oxygen.
I know that my kids are destined to do great things in this world, because God took a young woman with no desire whatsoever for motherhood, and gave her such a yearning that she could not let it go until each one of these people was birthed on the planet. You may look at me with my 5 kids, one carried kangaroo style and one looking like she could be the mom, and think "that poor woman." She must be Catholic, or crazy or Mormon, or stupid, or too lazy to use birth control. The truth is that I had to pray and wait for each of these blessings, and lose a couple on the way. Each time we integrated another person into our family, I just felt that the picture wasn't complete.
They are all here now, and the fog has lifted. I now clearly see the challenge set out for me and it is terrifying and exhilarating. Dealing with all of these bodily fluids is the easy part---we're moving into crushes and peer influence, and I'm facing the ghosts of my adolescent past. How much do I share? How soon? Already my eldest is amazingly brighter, prettier, stronger, wiser than I was at that age. But I've got boys riding past our house on their bikes, texing, and requesting friendship on Facebook. I need another cup of coffee.
more coffee is good, I am on cup 6...
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