Snapshots of the day
8:30: The house is alive and busy with a wild scramble to get Nathan to school and Hayden to a parent visit. I plop William and Hayden in the tub and quickly scrub them. Then we head to the busy kitchen. Pancakes on the griddle, cereal and milk on the counter, formula flying around the bottle, a hungry baby screaming in his highchair, a sister packing a lunch for Nathan and a diaper bag for Hayden – the kitchen is a whirl of activity.
12:30: After a morning of practicing music and swimming laps, the four sisters and their younger brother head to the ice cream shop. William’s eyes light up when we hand him a cone brimming with cookie dough ice cream. His mouth opens wide, his tongue stretches out for the first lick, and … plop. Tears fall. A classic childhood moment. Fortunately, the employee is understanding, and William’s tears are soon dried.
3:00: I return from grocery shopping with William. The house is full of its afternoon craziness. Two neighbors are dancing in the living room with Kylee and Kelsey. Hayden’s nap protests have filled the house long enough; we give in. My friend realizes that I leave for college in just one week, so she comes over to discuss books, scripture, and the Christian life. Nathan and his friend return from next door, and William joins them in running laps through the kitchen and living room.
I always tell people that we have six kids in our family. Seven, counting the baby. But really, when we have that few, our home feels empty. Right now, we have 11.
6:30: Dinnertime. It must be confessed that a few tortillas fly from my sister to my dad; it’s just much faster to pass them through the air.
7:30: I take William, the baby, and the dog on a walk. The breeze isn’t too hot and the cicadas are silent. The mingled chorus of crickets and sprinklers, however, reminds me that summer is still here. I walk barefoot on the warm pavement, greeting neighbors and smiling at a three-year-old’s prattle (Our dog can jump down from a retaining wall without crying. Did you know that?).
8:30: The boys have donned pajamas. After bedtime stories, we pray together, two brown heads resting on my lap. Goodnight songs and kisses, then bedtime.
11:30: Stillness. The little ones have long been asleep, and six teenage girls claim the house as theirs. The noises that only surface in the quiet hours finally venture out. A few echoing voices float from assorted rooms.
I sigh and rejoice in the simple things – the tears and the laughter, the small calamities and the pure joys, the chaos and the peace – that make up life.
12:30: After a morning of practicing music and swimming laps, the four sisters and their younger brother head to the ice cream shop. William’s eyes light up when we hand him a cone brimming with cookie dough ice cream. His mouth opens wide, his tongue stretches out for the first lick, and … plop. Tears fall. A classic childhood moment. Fortunately, the employee is understanding, and William’s tears are soon dried.
3:00: I return from grocery shopping with William. The house is full of its afternoon craziness. Two neighbors are dancing in the living room with Kylee and Kelsey. Hayden’s nap protests have filled the house long enough; we give in. My friend realizes that I leave for college in just one week, so she comes over to discuss books, scripture, and the Christian life. Nathan and his friend return from next door, and William joins them in running laps through the kitchen and living room.
I always tell people that we have six kids in our family. Seven, counting the baby. But really, when we have that few, our home feels empty. Right now, we have 11.
6:30: Dinnertime. It must be confessed that a few tortillas fly from my sister to my dad; it’s just much faster to pass them through the air.
7:30: I take William, the baby, and the dog on a walk. The breeze isn’t too hot and the cicadas are silent. The mingled chorus of crickets and sprinklers, however, reminds me that summer is still here. I walk barefoot on the warm pavement, greeting neighbors and smiling at a three-year-old’s prattle (Our dog can jump down from a retaining wall without crying. Did you know that?).
8:30: The boys have donned pajamas. After bedtime stories, we pray together, two brown heads resting on my lap. Goodnight songs and kisses, then bedtime.
11:30: Stillness. The little ones have long been asleep, and six teenage girls claim the house as theirs. The noises that only surface in the quiet hours finally venture out. A few echoing voices float from assorted rooms.
I sigh and rejoice in the simple things – the tears and the laughter, the small calamities and the pure joys, the chaos and the peace – that make up life.
posted by Courtney at 11:51 PM
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