What I've been trying to be lately

My socks do not match this morning and one of them is hovering around my ankle. That characterizes a typical morning for me. I have to little people ready and out somewhere. As for me, on the outside I look okay and somewhat put together. On the inside, however, I feel like I am a mess and do not really have a handle on my life or my kids.

People tell me that they are amazed at what I do or that they have no idea how I do what I do: four kids, husband, house, full-time job, some part time ones, and kid activities. Here is the secret: I have no idea what I am doing. I wonder often why God would torture my family by giving me so much responsibility. When does a person train to run a household with a gaggle of children?

I was raised in a small working class town with just my two parents, my brother Brian, and me. The house was quiet and in order. Apparently, I did not learn through osmosis how to run the house I just did the chores my mother told me to do. I did not learn how to do laundry until I went off to college and my mother was concerned that I would not have any clean underwear. I laugh every time I think about how my mom did not want us to wreck her washing machine so Brian and I (even Daddy) were not allowed to touch it. Everybody uses the washing machine in my house because I cannot handle the loads upon loads of laundry that is produced in my house. Honestly, I admire mothers who stay home and raise their children. How do they handle their jobs? I work full-time so I use that as a mini excuse for not getting many household chores done, but if I were home full time I would feel as though everything must be in order. There can never be order with one child, let alone two or more. (Warning: the following is a graphic, non-motherly response.) I would rather be shot with tacks than figure out how to manage my life at home full time with my four kids. That would take a level of bravery that I am sorry to say I just do not possess.

As I sit writing this entry, at work, I am self-conscious about the true things I will share about myself. This close self-examination all started when my students asked me, in early November I believe, if I have any regrets. I smiled at them (I smile when I am embarrassed or thinking of telling a lie) and said yes (but I was thinking of saying no). Everyone has regrets, right? While I have regrets, they are not about what I have done with my life, but the things I was afraid to do with it.