Thursday is the one day each week that our family most closely resembles the "average American family". I have to pack lunches, wake up sleepy teens, prepare a lesson and get the kids to their classes while I teach mine. Our homeschool co-op meets on Thursdays. My children are blessed to have access to classes like Dave Ramsey's Finance for Teens, Chemistry, Bible, Literature and Composition, Insect Study and Grammar Games. I am grateful for the courses that enhance our homeschooling and for the expertise and willingness of my fellow homeschooling parents that is shared so generously with my children. After co-op is when the day got a little "testy" . . .
One of our sons had his final football practice, another son had a basketball practice. Dear Hubby had to go in to work late for an after-hours computer issue while daughter needed to be picked up from Chemistry. Oldest son has a REAL job at the mall and so I needed to get his schedule before including him in my web of transportation drama.
Oh. And I had PROMISED Francis a haircut before I realized what day it was. I was not going to break a promise to our newest family member just when the trust was flowing freely. No Way.
Human cloning was sounding pretty good by about 3:30 pm. I needed another "me" only with more energy and no personal opinions.
I arrived home after my final chauffeuring gig, feeling fairly smug that the drop off/pick up schedule had been accomplished with none of my posterity stranded or even texting the dreaded "wher RU? We R dun". I even got him the haircut. It's a faux hawk. He looks adorable-er.
It was then I noticed it. The five pound "chub" of hamburger in my drainboard! I took it out before lovingly constructing 5 sack lunches early in the morning. I had BIG PLANS for that log of bacteria-infested cow flesh! It was going to be a beautiful rice casserole with golden brown cheddar cheese on top. It was going to evoke "oohs" and "aahs" from the family and I was going to shake my head gently with closed eyes and say "oh, it was no big deal. Eat up".
That never happened.
My first and third oldest saw my eyes dart from the meat to their faces and back again.
"I'll make omelets" said my oldest son, who didn't have to work at the mall after all.
"I'll help" said Ms. Third-in-Command.
"Thank you" I said sheepishly. "I"ll put some rice on" (we can't have a meal without rice in this Filipino-run household).
I settled for a bowl of oatmeal while my children fed one another.
The thankfulness that washed over me was the kind that I don't often experience. It was sheer gratitude that only ONE DAY per week is this demanding. It was appreciation for the bail out my children offered me. It was my willingness to lay down the cape and accept help from those who I knew were not judging me. They were just helping because, hey, it's THEIR family, too.
Mama said there'd be days like this!