I fear that my recent posts have seemed dreary. Blog world is a funny place where even the sad posts aren't snot-and-tears-all-over-your-face sad, rather Hollywood-heroine-lip-quivering-eyes-filling-with-tears sad. I can't tell what I portray here, since I know my life is the snotty, drippy sort, not the lip quivering heroine sort. I always write knowing the reality of the situation. When I read my post about attachment, I feel discouraged. I feel discouraged for any new adoptive parents who might read it and sigh and wonder for the 108th time if they really know what they are getting into. I feel discouraged for the post-adoptive crowd who is struggling to figure out what normal means and reads that after four years we are still baffled by adoptive life.
If you read that post and wonder what our lives look like, then I started this post for you. I want to be encouraging, but in a real way. I don't want you to get this image of a sullen, angry child who hates her family. That's not it at all! This morning, as I was writing it in my head (which is why my posts have become so rare...too much writing in my head and not enough making it onto the laptop). Anyway, as I was writing I was thinking of the lovely things we enjoy as a family. I had a mental list of photos from our recent trip to the beach for my sister's wedding. Definitely lovely.
The garden we have been planting and watering and now, as Eli says, "We just water and watch." So lovely.
The times when an academic struggle turns into success and we high five and cheer and I'm totally pumped and love homeschooling. Way lovely.
Scoping out a bird's nest in my parent's yard. Three little blue eggs and one big brown one, delighted to see science lessons in real life, though we all pretty much agree that we really don't like 'brood parasites'. Admiring the delicate nest with the kids ranks a big lovely.
But then my solace was interrupted when life happened. Probably in the middle of my mental writing of that lovely post. Someone clogged the toilet, which is basically about as un-lovely as things can be. Sally couldn't remember anything in her math book so I couldn't be interrupted to fix the toilet at that juncture. In the throes of reteaching the past 2 years of math with her, I forgot about the toilet.
Then, it was lunch time. Afterwards, Josiah and I decided to water the flowerbeds. While watering, he was reminded that he needed to race to the bathroom, but hadn't heard the "don't use that toilet" message from hours ago. So he used it. And flushed. And flushed. And wouldn't you know, he flushed one more time, just because he couldn't figure out why it wasn't working. That overflowing mess greeted me when I came into the house. I only came inside because the girls were pleading with me to make them tea for a tea party. Instead, I sopped up the mess and called for the culprit to help, then carried rugs and towels to the basement to wash. I noticed along the way that the litter box hadn't been emptied since we left for the weekend. I started laundry and cleaned the box and was running up the stairs with a bag of very used litter when I heard a pleasant voice coming from the dining room, barely audible over the din made by the tea partiers who were still begging for tea to be made. I hit the top stair and saw Eli's flute teacher, smiling at me--wet with toilet water, holding a bag of cat poop, panting and sweaty and surrounded by squealing children.
Our lives are not always lovely. It's a real life. Busy and lovely and sad and sometimes pretty frustrating.