Two negatives make one positive

I have so much going on with work right now. I'm taking a class to increase my math certification, judging cheerleading tryouts, working on the dance team and marching band show for next year, fund raisers, class planning, and, oh yeah, teaching! All of this means that Clark is spending most of the time with the kids and I get home with only an hour and a half to finish dinner, homework, and bed time. Every day I think, "I've just got to get through the end of the week (month, year...)."

Well tonight was cheerleading tryouts and my class, and Clark was home taking care of the kids with what turned out to be an upper respiratory infection. Two negatives. But what came out of all that turned out to be positive. The kids and I went outside to get the mail and bring up the trash can from the street, and ended up spending time playing in the yard to stay out of Clark's way. We played kick ball, frisby, ring-around-the-rosie, tumbled, and soljer-boy'ed until it got too dark to see. We came inside and did the bedtime routine and got everyone in bed. Once I had time to sit down and think, I realized that it has been a long time since I spent any time with the kids doing something completely unproductive, just for the fun of it. They had such a good time and for just a second I felt like a mom Supernanny wouldn't fuss at if she dropped in for a visit. I need more moments that remind me why I'm a mom - moments that turn two negatives into a positive.

Even numbers

I'm not sure exactly what my goal is in starting this blog page. Maybe it's because I talk too much and this gives me someone to talk to. Or maybe it's because there is so much going on in my life, that this is my way of putting some sort of organization to it. Whatever the reason, I'll do my best to continue it, and possibly come to some solution before the end of the problem.

I suppose one of the flaws in my character is that of even numbers. I like balanced equations - those with a solution. "No Solution" is not an answer in my life's problems. I suppose this is one of the reasons I am so suitable to be a math teacher. However, even numbers can become a problem of sorts when you already have two children and find out you are having three. Three is not an even number. Hence, the number four. Four children. Who's idea was that again? Don't get me wrong - I love my children. I believe God gave me children because he thought I could do something useful with them. I still haven't figured out why he gave me the most difficult four or what it is I was supposed to do that is useful, but like it or not, four it is and here they are.

Savannah is the oldest. She is my mini-me in many ways. What she is lacking, Shelby made up. I think God chose all of my most difficult characteristics and then magnified them into the form of my two daughters. Remember when your mother said "payback is hell?" She was right. They are the two smartest girls in middle Georgia, but they can act pretty darn dumb. Savannah, the drama queen, can blow any incident out of proportion in record time, and then suck it for all it's worth until you are worn completely to defeat. Shelby, the princess of misbehavior, can turn a simple conversation into a screaming match faster than you can cover your ears, beat her behind, or otherwise remove yourself from the situation. Car rides are incessant arguments, homework is torture, and bedtime is a pitty party. The two girls (lets call them S^2) are a very heavy side of a very unbalanced equation.

The two boys are their own kind of trouble. They are boys - they like to color on walls, play in the mud, dump out all the toys, throw things in the house, sword fight, and drive cars down the stairs. Everything girls just don't do. They are so fascinating to sit back and watch. It's been long enough since the girls were 2 and 4, that I don't remember the wonders of naive discoveries. John says things like "Mom, when are we going to see Reagan's baby? You know, the new one?" And makes observations you often wish he wouldn't, such as "Mom - you don't need to look nice today, you need to look like you always do." Thanks, son. Landon's speech is multiplying exponentially. One day he will say "Where passie go?" The next day it is "Mom, my passie's upstairs in my room. Go get it." Who knew it could literally change so fast? I still call Landon "the baby" and probably still will when he's 21.

Despite my complaints, having four kids also has it's joys, and it's benefits. It's more people to help clean the church on Saturday mornings and more to delegate chores to on chore days. It's more to do yard work, and more to bring in groceries from the car. Everyone in the family has someone to walk around the block with, someone to push the merry-go-round at the park while you ride, someone to balance the teeter-totter, someone to call out your spelling words on Thursday, someone to color with or do a puzzle with, someone to push the swing, someone to unload the dishwasher before you load, someone to feed the dogs while you get the water, someone to straighten the other side of the covers when you make the bed, someone to tell stories to in the dark after everyone else is asleep, someone to watch for the bus while you put on your shoes, someone to hold your hand when you cross the street, someone to help buckle your seatbelt, someone to read you a story, someone to change the channels on the TV, someone to set the table while you cook, someone to brush your hair, someone to play cards with, someone to ride the rides with at the amusement parks, someone to lighten your load, and someone to hug.

With as many terms as there are in my life's equation, somewhere in there, I suppose it all balances out.