My church is having a women’s retreat, and in a cursory review of the agenda, it looks like they’re going to spend a lot of time with activities that are deep and meaningful.  And I instantly thought “oh man!  no way I’m going to THAT!”

???

I was very surprised at my response.  Going deep is a good thing, right?  Growth, building relationships, etc – its all good, right?  And in the past, I’ve normally sought that kind of thing out.  So what’s the deal?

Then it hit me: I don’t need to go on a retreat to go deep, because these days, I LIVE in the deep.

On a daily basis, I find myself so far in the deep end of my kids crap that I’m either exhausted from treading water, or feel like I’m drowning.  Every day, I’m faced with levels of anger, grief, pain and loss that would take down the Terminator himself.  Every day, I have to examine my own insecurities, failings and emotions at a level that most people pay trained professionals to help them examine (and, I pay said paid professional in addition to my own examination).  Every day, I have to work like a fiend at my relationship with my husband, because we can’t take it for granted for a single minute or else we’ll drown.

Every day, I’m in the deep.

Which is why last night was such a wonderful little break.  For one hour, we went out to dinner to celebrate my husband’s birthday, and it was a delight.  My husband and I were making googly eyes at each other; N was being the tolerably annoying big brother; L was being a total, goofy, delight; M was trying desperately to act like a little adult (which is hard to do when your two front teeth are missing and you’re cute beyond words).  We laughed, joked, sang in the car, and generally had a blast.

Of course, it ended the minute we got home, but that’s okay.  Because for a brief moment, I got to sit in the shallow end, and take a break.  When you’re treading water day in and day out, even that brief respite can do wonders.

I’m just a mom.

…not a saint.

…not a social worker.

…not a therapist.

…not a savior.

…not a rescue operation.

…not a legal arrangement.

…not a wonderful person for what I’m doing.

…not a video surveillance system.

…not a child behavior expert.

…not a clarvoyant.

Just a mom.  A mom who loves her kids with all her heart.  And with all her imperfections.

…or if they did tell me, I didn’t listen.

1. Fridays are no longer “the end” of the week.  They’re just the beginning of the weekend.

First, you have to go through all the *$&@^ the school sends home, making sure you don’t miss the notification for the next school holiday, or even worse, your daughter’s pajama party. Then, you have to be with the kids full-time, because they’re not in school, and you’re not at work. And if you’re like me and save all your chores for the weekend, you have to attempt to do all of them while you have kids hanging on your legs.

I’ve come to love Mondays.

2. Homework isn’t just for kids anymore.

My first grader has homework that she truly can’t do unless I’m helping to read the instructions.  Sometimes, the homework even says “read this to your parents”.  Um, if I wanted to be involved in my child’s education, I would have sent them to private schools.

3. Laundry will dominate your life.

I think I’m up to 7 loads a week.  And just when I think its all done, I turn around three days later and the hamper is full again.  And of course, every piece of my daughter’s clothing must be pre-treated (the boys clothing is almost as clean as it was before they wore it).  And for some reason, one of my sons goes through more PJs than there are days in the week.  Explain that to me.

4. Silence is not golden, its deadly.

Unless they’re behind their bedroom doors – and sometimes, even then – silence usually means someone’s up to no good.

5. Kids don’t “get” that some stains don’t come out of carpet.

The list of stuff I can no longer let the kids keep in their room keeps getting longer: play makeup; any drawing supply that doesn’t have the word “Crayola” on it; Silly Putty.  Thank goodness we’re renting right now – on the other hand, we’ve had to say goodbye to the security deposit.

6. Kids have a very clear idea of what the bath water temperature should be, but their hands are too small to control it themselves.

Or at least, they THINK they have a clear idea.  I’ve been known to pretend I was adjusting the temperature just so I can watch them say “ahhhh, much better” and laugh to myself.  Bad mommy.

7. The bathroom will never be clean – or smell quite right – again

‘Nuff said.

8. Laundry sucks

I know, I said it earlier.  But its really THAT bad.

9. You’ll never watch the news in your family room again.

I used to watch the news religiously.  But when you’ve got little ones, you see things a bit differently.  Most of that stuff is just too scary for them.

10. Sometimes, you’ll realize that you love them so much that your entire body aches.

Do I really need to expand on that?

Remember when…

Remember when we cleaned floors, not ceilings; and laundry could be completed in half a day.  We were tidy.

Remember when everything had its place, expectations were clear, and we knew what the schedule was? We were orderly.

Remember when we could go out to eat without hiring a sitter, spongebob was a concept instead of reality, and vacations involved sitting around reading?  We were in control.

Remember when we were tidy?  And orderly?  And in control?

Do we miss it?

Sometimes.

Would we ever go back to it?

Never.

Because instead of tidy, and orderly, and control, we have N, and L, and M.

We have love, in all its messy goodness.

Remember.  Then celebrate.  And continue to love.