I start blogging after I'm far enough removed to laugh about what has happened. Today, that's sort of true, but not so much. I'm more writing to try to see something good and semi-funny in it. I will try to see the Bright Spots in my day. And, it's cheaper than a shrink. Blogging is therapeutic.
Some people go to bars and get drunk so that they can spill their soul and cry on someone's shoulder and not be judged. I have never tried this. I have however, been the person next to these people, and I do not wish to be either of those people. (The listener or the overdrinking emotional one) Confused yet? good.
Instead, I blog. I can try to gain some perspective on my soon-to-be-history Father's Day and how it went, without embarrassing myself in public, and without paying an over-priced shrink to tell me the things I probably already know, but just don't want to admit.
Father's day started like most days here, 4:45 AM, the boys are awake and yelling for me. They have settled into a 4:45 to 5:15 AM window within which they get up almost every day. I get up, try to get them to be quiet, so that they don't wake up everyone else in our house. They haven't figured out how to whisper very well yet.
I try to rest for a while, but I have to keep messing with them, and so I'm definitely up for all day. The dog next door is barking his head off, I think this maybe is why the boys are awake, and it's driving me crazy. Happy Father's Day. I wouldn't be so tired if this didn't happen every day, but it happens pretty much every day. (Bright Spot: They may wake up before the sun, but they sleep through the night. I should be thankful.)
Breakfast for the kids is oatmeal, as usual. Bright Spot: my beautiful and intelligent wife goes to the market this morning to buy meat, and brings home some Lechon Baboy. That is the local name for whole roast pig, and it tastes great. (She didn't bring home the whole pig, just a piece of it.) I even eat some of the crunchy fatty skin, which can actually taste pretty good.
We had decided to have Home Church this morning, so I get ready to lead the kids in some songs-- two of them end up in their room in time-out the whole time, because of screaming/yelling/general disobedience.
The Bible story and daddy day craft go ok. But it is officially Fussy Father Day. Brooke and I were going to listen to a sermon online. Yeah, no chance for that.
Lunch. Rest time. I break up more sibling fights. more screaming. yelling. fighting. hitting.
Finally we take the kids for a walk. They do fine for quite a while, run, play, exercise (Another Bright Spot) then it's time to go home, and because of a small disagreement over who sits on what seat in the stroller, another child is screaming almost the entire way home.
And then, we are home, and my child soon calls "The TV's not working!" I go down, try to turn it off and on, something suddenly prompts me to look at the back, and I realize that the backside of the TV is soaked. Some darling little children spit and/or poured water inside the holes in the back of the TV.
It is now officially not working, and I currently have a fan running on it praying that it might dry out. It's actually the first TV we've ever purchased. We've been given a few over the years, but never actually bought one until this one. And now it's innards are fried with toddler water.
Another Bright Spot: Brooke made peanut butter chocolate chip cookies for supper. Good chocolate chips don't exist in our town, so it's a major treat. There is happiness in the midst of exhausted annoyance.
I won't go into the fun of getting them to clean their rooms tonight, or any of that, because it has been a really long day, and these days I don't have time to cry anymore, but days like this get me close to tears, and (thankfully) to reciting Bible verses in my head. This is a better thing to do than say to my kids the things I would like to say to them. I would just feel worse about it later.
Love is patient...kind, etc...that's been ringing in my ears. And also, "So do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed for I am your God, I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand"--- (Isaiah 41:10)
Right now, I am exhausted, tired of dealing with being a daddy to four adorable, but amazingly high-maintenace children. But as I look back, I see that there are actually quite a few Bright Spots in my day, for which I should choose to be thankful. There, I'm thankful. There is ALWAYS something to be thankful for.
See? I told you blogging was therapeutic.
I wouldn't trade those 4 little monsters for anything, but having 24 hours without them around sometimes would be heavenly. Should I feel guilty for saying that? Hmm, let me think about it.
Nope. Not feeling guilty.
Some days, I come to the end, and wish I could just go to bed for 36 hours or so and see pretty much no one. (Of course I want to see you honey, but if I'm gonna sleep for 36 hours, you're gonna have to take care of the kids.)
Well, Father's Day is done, and I think I will go to bed, and hopefully dream about sleeping.