Confession about yesterday's post

It was real.  It did happen.  It was spur of the moment.

BUT

It was spur of the moment because I am absolutely not the sort of mom these days who ever, ever plans on doing cute, sweet things like that.  Nope.  I get by with survival.

Is everyone alive, healing, and relatively sane at the end of the day?  Good.

Have I educated or at least read to one or more of the kids.  Very good.

The rest is for another time.  If I try to plan that sort of thing (art projects, museum outings, fun activities), I can easily start to feel stressed and burdened and like a failure if I never get around to it.  If we just pack up and go somewhere, it's awesome.  If I am feeling adventurous and teach someone how to make cookies one afternoon, it's lovely.

I can't even plan to potty train someone starting on such-and-such a day.  It will never happen.  I'll fail.  I just have to wake up one morning feeling a little extra energy and faith in myself and a particular someone else.  That is the day I start potty training. (I can use that as an example because I have been potty training one or more children for years, now, and our doctor mentioned that it was time to get my newest 2-year-old out of diapers.  I decided not to hit her.)

So just in case you are all impressed that I am planning cutesy tea parties on my living room floor while in the midst of parenting all these ruffians, relax.  The vast majority of our life is far less cute, and nothing like that is being planned out by me.  Once every few years, something like that happens around here.  I know that I need to snap a picture quickly and document it to use as evidence one day when my kids are grown.  "I did, too, have tea parties for you, by golly!!!"