Sometimes my moments, or days, as the matriarch of our little family simply catch me off guard. I've grown to expect the unexpected, to believe the unbelievable, and I stay pretty convinced that my days will not go the way I plan.
So I haven't quit planning, because what's the mom of a bustling family to do - throw it all to the wind? (I've tried that, and it doesn't seem to work either.) But for a number of years now, I try keep a pretty open hand: Plan for what I want and need, and then (try to) remain open to the interruptions that will surely come.
So yesterday Corbin and I both went about our days shrouded with a blanket of stress. I imagine the result of our 24-hour turn-around between Puerto Rico and getting the three older kids to Sky Ranch, Corbin's work (he landed at DFW last Sat with multiple phone calls from doctors that he needed to read the front page of the Fort Worth Star Telegram - lovely), starting this remodel on our home, figuring out what to do with three dogs and no back fence (!), and then just throw in a couple of parenting concerns. And a waaayyy over-loaded To Do list.
Late last night, as I told myself over and over that I was smart enough to come up with a plan for the dogs, I quickly realized that our newly-built dog kennel was a necessity. Our dogs come inside a lot, but ALL the time is not an option. Corbin bought a kennel and constructed it Saturday evening after we flew in from Puerto Rico, knowing that a section of our fence would be torn down by yesterday. But after Cross successfully escaped twice, we spent a couple more hours securing things this morning.
8-10 Work on dog kennnel
10-11:00 Walk (PTL!)
11:30 Leave for vet. At least, we would have, if all 3 dogs wouldn't have escaped and galloped a block away, me yelling and running from behind. Now is when I wish we would have spent more time training them. Now is also when I wondered why I bothered with taking a shower this morning?
12:00 Arrive at vet late for appointment
1:30 On the way home, deposit a zillion library books a day late. Then listen to Ruby throw up twice in the last mile to the house.
1:35 Think, "No big deal. I've dealt with plenty of throw up over the past decade."
1:40 Arrive home at the same time as our builder and a landscape architect, just in time to tell them, "No, I'm sorry, I don't have any idea where I put those samples. I'll scour the garage right after I take these puppies by their leashes down to their kennel, drag the hose half an acre to refill their water, and then find rubber gloves and paper towels and carpet cleaner for my car."
1:50 Realize maybe Ruby's mess is, afterall, a big deal. She not only got sick in the back of my suburban, but then decided to move to the bench seat (furthest back) to repeat. And not only did she repeat, but she peed AND threw up between the bench and the side of the car. Even after I cleaned up that area, I discovered she managed to fill the compartment that the bench hardware attaches to the car with her fluids.
Gross.
And - do you know how hot it was in my driveway today at 2:00 pm? And I'm guessing that frustration might make one's body temperature further rise. Especially as one removes booster seats, coloring books, and all kinds of miscellaneous items to throw forward every seat in a suburban to clean up two puddles of gross stuff.
So basically, even though 75% of my children are away for the week, I spent 8-2:30 or so fully dedicated to corralling and caring for and cleaning up after these dogs.
I've come up with a plan B. I'll just take that over-flowing To Do list, scratch out Wednesday on the top, and write in Thursday. And then maybe Friday.
It always gets done, right? These piles aren't going anywhere.
I just now snapped this picture of little Essie, who, while I was typing away, ran upstairs to change clothes for the next activity (she hasn't played soccer in a year, just likes to dress up in her old uniform).
Even in the middle of the day, in the Texas heat, who can say no to that?
And... anyone need a ride in the back of my suburban?!
So I haven't quit planning, because what's the mom of a bustling family to do - throw it all to the wind? (I've tried that, and it doesn't seem to work either.) But for a number of years now, I try keep a pretty open hand: Plan for what I want and need, and then (try to) remain open to the interruptions that will surely come.
So yesterday Corbin and I both went about our days shrouded with a blanket of stress. I imagine the result of our 24-hour turn-around between Puerto Rico and getting the three older kids to Sky Ranch, Corbin's work (he landed at DFW last Sat with multiple phone calls from doctors that he needed to read the front page of the Fort Worth Star Telegram - lovely), starting this remodel on our home, figuring out what to do with three dogs and no back fence (!), and then just throw in a couple of parenting concerns. And a waaayyy over-loaded To Do list.
Late last night, as I told myself over and over that I was smart enough to come up with a plan for the dogs, I quickly realized that our newly-built dog kennel was a necessity. Our dogs come inside a lot, but ALL the time is not an option. Corbin bought a kennel and constructed it Saturday evening after we flew in from Puerto Rico, knowing that a section of our fence would be torn down by yesterday. But after Cross successfully escaped twice, we spent a couple more hours securing things this morning.
8-10 Work on dog kennnel
10-11:00 Walk (PTL!)
11:30 Leave for vet. At least, we would have, if all 3 dogs wouldn't have escaped and galloped a block away, me yelling and running from behind. Now is when I wish we would have spent more time training them. Now is also when I wondered why I bothered with taking a shower this morning?
12:00 Arrive at vet late for appointment
1:30 On the way home, deposit a zillion library books a day late. Then listen to Ruby throw up twice in the last mile to the house.
1:35 Think, "No big deal. I've dealt with plenty of throw up over the past decade."
1:40 Arrive home at the same time as our builder and a landscape architect, just in time to tell them, "No, I'm sorry, I don't have any idea where I put those samples. I'll scour the garage right after I take these puppies by their leashes down to their kennel, drag the hose half an acre to refill their water, and then find rubber gloves and paper towels and carpet cleaner for my car."
1:50 Realize maybe Ruby's mess is, afterall, a big deal. She not only got sick in the back of my suburban, but then decided to move to the bench seat (furthest back) to repeat. And not only did she repeat, but she peed AND threw up between the bench and the side of the car. Even after I cleaned up that area, I discovered she managed to fill the compartment that the bench hardware attaches to the car with her fluids.
Gross.
And - do you know how hot it was in my driveway today at 2:00 pm? And I'm guessing that frustration might make one's body temperature further rise. Especially as one removes booster seats, coloring books, and all kinds of miscellaneous items to throw forward every seat in a suburban to clean up two puddles of gross stuff.
So basically, even though 75% of my children are away for the week, I spent 8-2:30 or so fully dedicated to corralling and caring for and cleaning up after these dogs.
I've come up with a plan B. I'll just take that over-flowing To Do list, scratch out Wednesday on the top, and write in Thursday. And then maybe Friday.
It always gets done, right? These piles aren't going anywhere.
I just now snapped this picture of little Essie, who, while I was typing away, ran upstairs to change clothes for the next activity (she hasn't played soccer in a year, just likes to dress up in her old uniform).
 |
| "Mommy, can you please play soccer ball with me?" |
And... anyone need a ride in the back of my suburban?!
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