Bear with me for a moment while I log an evening in the life. Someday I’ll be glad I wrote this down, because things get forgotten when seasons pass.
I walked into the kitchen to make supper. Potluck prep for the potluck after church the next day was also needing to happen. Both Liberty and Eden were at a friend’s house for the evening. Chaos reigns all the more with lots of littles and less bigs.
I set one child to making a cake. Another was instructed to wash hands and peel hard boiled eggs for deviled eggs. A good three tablespoons of Dawn get poured into child’s hand. The soap pump of homemade hand soap and the bar of soap sit untouched. I remind child to use hand soap. Dawn pours everywhere. Because… three tablespoons and small hands. I ask child to clean it up. Walk past the dish cloth on the counter and grab a clean, dry rag. I like laundry. Instruct that wet dish cloth would have been great. Feel slightly touchy about this subject since I just folded four loads of laundry and a pile of rags three feet high from that laundry.
Another child comes from the basement with a leaking can of sparkling water. It hit the garage floor. Pour it into a glass. Instruct a child to wash it up off the floor. There went another rag. This required me to instruct said child that wet rag meant actually using water. I’m feeling like a broken record.
Cake baking child added baking powder instead of baking soda. Oops. Time will tell. (I’m told it tasted good.)
Send a child for the bags of baby carrots to cook for supper. Find out one bag got eaten earlier in the day. Plan B. Guilty party peels and chops big carrots. Pretty sure child enjoyed that more than I intended.
Peel the last of the potatoes. Ten pounds lasted two meals, but only because the two big girls were gone for the second meal. We’d never have had enough otherwise. Meat was a roast. I’d sent a child for meat for supper the day before, and they came back with two, because we eat two of everything. I stuck both into crockpots. Exact same meal, two nights in a row. No one complained. Less work. I’m totally doing that again.
Garbage is overflowing. Chicken scraps need to go out. Not enough helpers.
We find the water bottle I’d looked for earlier. I head for the vinyl I’d made to put a child’s name on it. Find the vinyl in the garbage. That’s still entirely unclear. Salvage vinyl. Still missing one water bottle I’d made a name for. I can’t figure out how these things disappear.
Go to grab lettuce to put a salad together for the potluck. Six heads of romaine apparently joined the carrots in disappearing before meeting their intended use. Two packages of hotdogs and a giant can of beans are headed for a crockpot for plan b.
Mash potatoes. Shred roast. Cake comes out of the oven looking normal but off color. Peeled eggs go into the fridge. Devil those tomorrow. I’m out of time. Supper. Milk spilled. Six kids need showers before bed. Mud and church dictate this need. They all bathe themselves. I’m so thankful for this. Pretty sure Stellan doesn’t know that people actually take baths. He’s always showered with a brother since he could walk.
Bed happens about 9:00. Daylight savings time means tomorrow morning will be fun.
So tired. All the time. I excel at multitasking but never catch up. My floors were all mopped Thursday. At least the kitchen is lined up for another turn tomorrow. So. Many. Messes. Chaos. And yet, I kind of love it. And I sit down in the evening wondering why I don’t just go to bed.