Fly Away

A few weeks ago, another toothbrush left the pot. 

You would think this would take the pot down to six toothbrushes, but for some reason there has always been more toothbrushes in that pot, than people living in this house. Sometimes it is double the number. It baffles the husband every time he makes them point out which toothbrush is theirs in order to throw the excess ones away. It doesn't change anything. It goes into the mysteries of family life, like odd socks and tupperware lids.

So a toothbrush has gone, as have the Star Wars and Film Lego sets. The record player has gone, as have the guitars. Stitch has gone as have the unique T-shirts. The room is empty, much to the siblings' intrigue as they prepare their motivational speeches about having their own rooms. I watched him pack it all away. Well, I watched him pack away the bits he wanted, the rest he left in a pile or two (or three) for me to sort through. He carefully packaged all the bits that needed to be safely re-homed in our loft, and all the bits that needed to go with him to his new home. 

He actually accidently left home without realising it, and without telling us. It just sort of happened. He thought he was just decorating the new place but ended up staying there. He then called me to say that he may have accidently left home. We landed the call with a plan for him to come home for family dinner so that we could all get a chance to say what we love about him, and say a goodbye of sorts. The husband packed all of his things and some of my memories into the car and drove him off to his new adventure. I went and stood in his room. I closed my eyes. I breathed in the quietness and had a good cry. I needed to feel the empty space, grieve the empty space. It visually and audibly helped me resonate with what was going on in my heart. 

I read somewhere last week that for the most part, we know our children as adults longer than we know them as children. It made sense but it stopped me in my tracks. Of course they are always our children but you don't really even comtemplate that thought when you're smack bang in the middle of the messy years. You're too caught up in the giggles, the chatter, the colour, the chaos, the loose teeth, the open doors, the running, the plastc tat, the early mornings, the car seats, the knee scrapes, the trips to the park, the pack mentality, the tree climbing, the head bandages, the Cheerios, the wet wipes, the noise, the breakages, the muddy trainers, the imaginative play, the same old adventures. Then they're teenagers and maybe their doors are a little more closed. The noise and the chaos come in bursts when they feel safe, happy or mad. Less trees get climbed and their trainers stay clean. The colours tone down. They become individuals. Early mornings get later and later. The chats become less but so treasured. And then their bags get packed, boxes get filled, the space empties and they're off for some new adventures. 

It's both wonderful and awful all rolled into one. You spend your life as a mum, being there for them. You're there when they need you, nurturing them, shaping them, chanllenging and encouraging them, making sure they've got everything they need in order to grow into people who don't need your shaping and nurturing so much. You have to go through the painful bit where they don't think they need you but they desperately do, through to the bit where they actually don't need you quite so much and you need them more than you realise. 

I did a Valentine's activity for the ones still at home and realised there were of course names missing. (One was a bit poorly and didn't fancy chocolate and two have moved out). The mum guilt was there, as it tries to be in all seasons of a mother's life! It was like I had forgotten them, which I hadn't but this verse actually stood as a great encouragement to me.

"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palm of my hands..."Isaiah 49v15-16

These kids I have been blessed with are not mine to keep, but arrows to be sent out into the world. I can trust that God not only has His eye on them. He's got their names on the palms of His hands. They are His. He knows them. He created them for adventures. He created me for this adventure too.

Off-Peak

So yesterday I took the plunge and joined a gym. Eeek! I'm not really a gym type person. I tend to convince myself that there are so many workouts on-line, I could just do them whenever I want to, which is pretty much never. (Although I would recommend a 20min Beyonce Dance off with your daughters, for the giggles, the moves and the fitness.) There was a deal on, it's near my place of work, it can fit it in with my week, so I went for it. I was fairly relieved when yesterday turned out to be just a tour and the payment schedule. I didn't dare tell them I had a scraped together gym kit in the back pack I was wearing. I went for the off-peak option because it was a) cheaper and b) the gym's 'peak hours' are also home's 'peak hours' so I wouldn't be able to get there then. Besides, being at home between 4pm and 8pm is a different kind of workout. (I think it's called exercising the fruits of the Spirit). 

This morning I had my Induction at 8am. A little bit of me-time at 8am. Of course, first I needed to make sure I could leave the house well. I took the toothbrushes out of the bathroom in order to eliminate the "I'm in the shower" shout to the siblings knocking on the door to use the toothbrushes. I woke one of them up for his first wake up on my way downstairs with the toothbrushes. I took the sandwiches out of the fridge. Like Martha Stewart or some other organised mum guru, I had made the sandwiches the night before whilst watching an episode of Police Interceptors. I had to pre-empt the night-owl teenager that the sandwiches in the fridge are not for him as a late night snack. (Side note: apparently sandwiches are not working for one of them so we're trialing wraps). I leave the sandwiches and wraps out in age order. It's just easier that way. 

I put the kettle on for a hot water bottle for the one who is too sick for school. I got the uniform out of the dryer for the one that needed it washed last night. I leave out Ibuprofen for his sore back. Yes he could go looking for it all, but at 6:45am that's a lot to ask from a teen. I put the cereal on the table and pack the littlest one's lunch. I'm making her go to a buddy's house early so I can go to a stupid gym induction so she wont quite be fully conscious enough to pack her own lunch. I take up the hot water bottle, a snack, a note, fresh water and Calpol for the poorly one and leave it within reach for when she wakes up. (She was prepped the night before that I'd be gone for an hour. She possibly wont even wake until I am back). I do a second wake up of the one who needs waking, and a third with a reminder to get his football gear ready. He can't find his black jeans. I'm pretty sure black jeans are not in the uniform policy but that is his battle with the teachers, not mine. I find his black jeans. And his belt. 

I do the first and second wake up of the littlest who can't believe it's not the middle of the night. It was a whole 15minutes earlier than normal because I had a gym induction to get to. I help her to get dressed. She is of course old enough to get dressed by herself but this morning, mummy is going to help because mummy has some me-time booked in. Thankfully she has plaits in which will last her another non hair-brushing day. I sign her reading record, while getting her sleepy self to choose which cereal she wants. (I assume she has indeed read Tom Gates' Dog Zombies Rule but the teachers can pick that up). I put a washing load on because any sane mother knows that missing one day of laundry creates 7 extra days of laundry. One of them has asked for an early drop off down the road so he can get the bus to work. One of them is poorly in bed. One of them I walk across the road to her buddy's house. One of them I hope gets the bus to school and one I'm not sure what his plans are but I have left a hopeful note about the washing being put away. 

And then I'm off to the gym, off to get a little me-time. I catch a breath-taking sunrise across the sea, and I have a little chat to God. I am reminded of Psalm 113, "From the Rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised". I thank God that there is much to praise His name for. For the abundant household I have just come from, for the gym I don't particularly want to go to, for the joy of the sunrise behind me. 

I read in the gospel of Mark later that day, that after the sunset people had brought all the sick to Jesus to be healed. 'The whole town gathered at the door'. Early the next morning, while it was dark Jesus had left the house and gone to a solitary place to pray. Simon had gone looking for him. He needed Him back because 'everyone was looking for Him'. I am not comparing my ministry at home with Jesus ministry to everyone in Galilee, but I did smile knowing that Jesus sees me and understands me. He knows what the demand is like to a whole other level, and yet He is still always availe to me. There are no off-peak hours with Jesus. Another reason to praise Him before the sun goes down.

Snow and Tell

Yesterday, beloved Brighton came to a standstill due to heavy snowfall. When I say heavy, I mean heavy for this tiny part of Sussex. The snow actually settled for once, rather than just a colder than usual, wetter than usual slushy drizzle. And of course, chaos ensued. The snow arrived on the school run, the perfect time of the day for a little extra madness. Parents couldn't get to school, kids couldn't get home from school and some teachers had to stay at other local teachers' houses for the night, because they couldn't make the trecherous drive home. Certain roads became gridlocked with some people abandoning their cars, whilst others skidded along hoping their non winter tyres would get them up the hill, only to find abandoned buses, police cars and ice everywhere. 

I witnessed the heroic ventures of one man who had borrowed another man's boots and jogged for 40minutes to collect his wife and son who had wisely decided to stop their car rather than attempt the rest of the journey home. He wrapped the boy up and put him in a carrier and walked him and his wife safely home, spotting multiple snowmen along the way. One of my children managed to get the early bus home, so she was safe and dry. Her brother however had left a little later, so he sat on a non moving bus for an hour and was a little put out when I couldn't drive to pick him up as my car had been iced in by this point. He had a cold walk home.

One person however was delighted with yesterday's antics! My youngest always asks Alexa in the morning what degree it will be today. She then decides her wardrobe based on the answer. Alexa told her it would be Zero degrees. Rather intrigingually she then asked if there would be snow. Alexa said there would be later in the afternoon. Rather delighted with that answer, she came and told me that snow was expected. She then said how sad it was because the snow never settles. It gets washed away and it's never deep enough to actually play in. 

Well role on the school run! She didn't want to get a lift home in the car. She wanted to run in the snow, giggling with her best buddy. Ah the life of a nine year old. When she got home, we put on extra jumpers, found some snow gliders that I had picked up from the side of the road in the Summer and we headed back out. Oh what fun we had... snow gliding, snowball throwing, yellow snow avoiding, trecking up the Racehill, learning to roll rather than crash into the metal gate (after crashing into the metal gate) and of course building a snowman. 

It was a memory making day and we both loved it. After the post-snow meltdown, (all the tears because you can't feel your fingers or your toes and all your clothes are wet and freezing and clinging to you) she had a hot chocolate and snuggled into her fluffy Onesie. 

I took a moment to remind her about the morning. How she was sad because the snow wouldn't settle or be deep enough to play in. I told her she must be God's favourite! She looked up at me with questioning eyes. I explained that God didn't actually have favourites, just like parents shouldn't (although you might find one easier than another). But He is a good Father and He does know what we need and what brings us joy and she is a child of God. I said that I don't do everything the same for each of my children, but I know what blesses each one of them. I suggested that perhaps the snow was just for her, perhaps it wasn't at all but either way we should be thankful to Him for the fun we had had in the snow because not everyone's account of yesterday's snowday would have been as much of a blessing as it was to her, as it was to us. 

"As the snow... comes down from Heaven...watering the Earth making it bud and flourish...so is my word that...will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it". Isaiah 55v10-11