I dashed off to 8:15 a.m. Mass this morning, as usual, with my husband (yes, I am lucky enough to go with him each morning, and no, I would not be able to manage this feat without his help!), and eight children in tow.
I don't like to do much housekeeping on Sundays in order to try to observe Sabbath Rest. Of course, the Church's teaching is no unnecessary manual labor is to be done...and almost everything a mother does on a daily basis is necessary...so...
Anyway, the house was a mess. Plus the kids made paper airplanes all weekend. Dozens. There were contests. That was added to the random laundry and toys that routinely litter my home.
So I entered my home after Mass and heard the "zip". There is a plastic sheet with a zipper that separates our main living space from the home school room addition.
The general contractor walked in. He had a question about our deck:
Railing or no railing? (Railing). He held the plastic back for me and I daintily crept through to the addition. In my ever-suave manner, I managed to kick a plastic wind-up butterfly at him as I made my way across my mess, well, my home. I believe there were possibly four men awaiting my decision. I sort of hate being in positions like that. It just makes me want to crawl in a hole--or just get back to making my kids breakfast in the kitchen!
It's simply not my "happy place". My happy place? Right here:
In the backyard, by the sandbox, with 8 or so little kiddos, several of whom are not even my own.
Catching lost bunnies (Pip again!), making fall versions of our summer sand cakes, and watching my "baby" play in her swimsuit for (surely) what will be the last time this season:
However, it is my great hope that very soon our school room addition will be another place of great joy and contentment. Wanna see where we're at? (I know you do).
Today was tedious work. Nothing showy or exciting (well, the deck was fun to see go in). Today they framed out the interior windows, which we're just going to paint white:
Same window, better lighting:
Stay tuned!
No comments:
Post a Comment