Of all the things that happened last weekend I think I regret the chocolate raisins the most. Perhaps not the actual purchase of the bulk bin deluxe chocolate raisins. Who can resist scooping those things scoopy scooop scoop scoop into the thin plastic bag before moving along to stock pile the cart with enough canned goods to feed my family for months. Which is the point of shopping, being Mormon and all... a basement full of canned goods is as good as an all expense paid first class ticket into heaven (or at least some peace of mind should difficult circumstances arise).
So, no, I don't regret the purchase of nearly 2lbs of chocolate goodness, I was starvin' marvin and those raisins really hit the spot. I think the biggest regret is that they were consumed in a mere 1.7 days which means that the glorious milk chocolate coated raisins are not currently available to feed my midnight craving,
this is the regret. I would like to think that buying more chocolate raisins next time would solve this problem, that they would last through more craving fits like the one I'm having right now. But let's be honest. More raisins would just mean shoving them in harder and faster with the same regrets two days later, namely that there were not more.
I don't know. Maybe I regret being such a smartalec in church. I don't mean to be. Honest. I have every intention of arriving in Sunday School to fill my spiritual cup, get the learning that will help out through the week, contribute in meaningful ways... But it's something about those long church pews and the clinging of the pantyhose to my legs that causes all of my sarcasm and self proclaimed wit to boil rapidly to the surface. It jumps out of my mouth and lands smack dab in the middle of the Sunday School room floor for everyone to gawk at.
Note to self : Must be sure to think before I let these things come hurtling out of my pie hole. Perhaps if I were to fill the pie hole with pie, perhaps this would be the solution. Sunday School ala caramel pecan. Perfect. Even better... ala chocolate raisins.
However, it is a darned good thing I am a church going, God fearing Christian woman. This is why: I have prayed very fervently and honestly in the past few days in hopes that the Lord would enlighten my mind and give me guidance about how to raise a single solitary boy amidst a gaggle or girls. Remember, I am C to the LUE to the L-E-S-S about this matter. Let me tell you, dear faithful seven, that I have not been let down. Answers have come to me... I will list these in bullet points, since this seems to be how the Lord answers my prayers. Quick lists. Very practical.
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Play UNO - This is mentally engaging, teaches numbers and colors and requires his attention to be focused on a single thing. This is also one-on-one time with Mom, which means I am not on the phone, on the computer, knitting, painting, nursing, running, cleaning or cooking. I am with Oakley. Just me and him for a few minutes. I get the impression he likes this.
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Play Tic-Tac-Toe and/or that dot square game thingy. (God did not actually say thingy, it's just my interpretation) - once again practice with attention span, turn taking and writing skills. Oh, and get THIS little piece of revelation... Substitute whatever letter he needs to learn for the X or O. So we could play B's and Y's or V's and M's. You get the picture. I am not kidding when I say this was revelation. God is very practical.
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Swimming! - A good two hours swimming is worth a day of playing in the yard. Pack up the kids, try to forget that I have not shaved my legs, and get to the nearest (only) public pool. The 18 mile drive is
so so so worth the energy expended, games played, smiles shared and tired boy (and girls) in the car on the way home. There is very little fighting after an afternoon of swimming. I may even get crazy and buy an annual pass, at this rate you never know what could happen.
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Hammer and Nails - Our basement work room is full of the stuff, and some old wood to boot. Oakley will spend a full hour hammering away, creating clumps of wood he likes to call "race tracks" or "space ships" or "cars". This is best when the babies are asleep, of course. Because a baby eating Nutella is one thing, but sharp nails.... not quite so bloggable.
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Treadmill! - Oakley is learning the fine art of running on the treadmill. I put him on in 0.25 mile increments at speeds ranging from 3.5 to 4.5 mph. He loves it. I love it, especially when things get really tense and I want to chase him around the house with a broom screaming British obscenities. Energy is spent working his little tushy instead of tormenting Ivy. The bonus is... I am training myself a nice little running partner. 10 more years of this and I'll have a nice little runner to keep up with.
So, there you have it. I believe in the power of prayer. Very practical, down to earth, help-me-in-this-very-moment-with-this-very-thing sort of prayer. Especially when it comes to parenting.
If there is one thing I am thankful for this Thanksgiving Season it is the knowledge that I don't have to do this job alone. The knowledge that God is there helping me with these precious little ones as long as I ask with faith. Even though I am a smartalec and make a mockery of church classes. I guess these kids are important enough that He overlooks these things.
I am also thankful for chocolate raisins.
