Saturday Wrap-Up

The game this morning was amazing. Both teams played their wee hearts out. The team they played today has an inordinate number of little guys, too, and that made the coaches from both teams out on the field look like the Gulliver family enjoying a reunion in Lilliput. John's team lost this game - something like 17 - 14. It was close, hard, and fast. Kids flying past home plate from both teams the entire time. Obviously, neither team has quite mastered the whole concept of "fielding the ball" yet. But they had fun, and there was no tension, no attitude, from the stands or the refs. It was what baseball should look like. Good, good stuff.

Zorak's making progress in the basement. He built a door for the Scary Room, strung more wire (thus bringing the rest of the lights up to code), and added a few much-needed outlets. There's only one more wire to run and we can put the cover back on the electrical box! WOOHOO! He also cleaned up a lot down there.

The boys tended the fire. And had a sword fight. Thankfully, not all at the same time.

Zorak built stilts for the boys, and they had a blast trying to master a new skill.

BabyGirl ran around in circles, fed the Baltoid by hand, and insisted on climbing the Terrifyingly Dangerous Stairs to the Very Dangerous Balcony. (Anyone know where I can get a shirt that says, "No, I do not know fear"?)

James just about made me cry when he hit a MAJOR "growing up" milestone today. He started to snap at one of his brothers (who was, admittedly, being a bit irritating), but he stopped himself, and corrected his tone - without prompting from an adult! Nobody said anything, he just caught it on his own. Oh! It was beautiful. *sniff* My baby's growing up.

I spent h-o-u-r-s decluttering. I swear our paper products must be made of rabbit. There's no way we have brought *that much* paper into the house in the last month, so it's got to be breeding. New House Rule: you may not leave any two sheets of paper unchaperoned for longer than one day. (And if that doesn't work, then all paper products will be checked at the door.)

The rest of the day was pretty much the same old stuff: we wrote, we read, we laughed; we talked, we ate, we worked. Well, I say "same old stuff", but it's the stuff that holds the day together amidst the decluttering and building and planning. That's the stuff that gives you the time to make eye contact more, and smile a little longer, and sit closer together. In that stuff is where you get to say to your children, "I'm here," and they get to say to you, "We know." Can't beat that, even if it's not hilarious or poignant or eloquent.

I don't know what I would do if it weren't for the downtime, the loud and raucous time, the together time. A friend said something a while back about how hard it would be to get things accomplished when you never get six hours during the day with all the children gone, to get things done, to regroup, and to take quiet breaks. At first, I thought, "well, yeah, that's true," but then I realized, "*pfft* who am I kidding? If I had six hours to myself every day, I wouldn't accomplish a darned thing. I'd put the coffee pot and half-gallon jug of creamer on my nightstand, dig out the stash of Zebra Cakes, and spend six hours every day reading in bed and eating myself into a coma!" Sure, it sounds heavenly for the first three or four hundred pounds, but eventually? No, let's face it - the life I have right now is exactly the life I need. They keep me focused, keep me honest, and keep me going. It's really, really good.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy