Perhaps you’ve already figured out that I’ve forgotten how to blog.
Forgotten how to write. Forgotten how to take pictures. Forgotten how to capture memories and moments and all the things in between.
I’ve forgotten how to think and process… and worse still… how to collect my thoughts and put them on paper.
Blogging was, and has always been, a great avenue for me to meditate and process life. It’s helped me work through the jumbled events and activities around me and to sort, sift, and plunge through the minutes and hours that make up my day. It helped me to make sense, to think BIG, and to wonder out loud about how each moment fits into eternity.
A few months ago (okay, so maybe its been more than a few months since I’ve really sat down and blogged), I would have told you about my day today. About how I woke up to my alarm at 6am… and then proceeded to hit snooze 5 times just because I could. Just because I didn’t have to get up early, because today was a day off from providing childcare for two little boys of a single dad in our church.
I would have told you that I began my day, as I’ve begun almost every day for the last 18 months, by exercising to provide the needed energy and strength to chase, discipline, train, and love my boys. Not to mention the strength needed for a very draining pregnancy, during a very busy stage in life.
I might even have bragged about the fact that I’m still exercising at least 4 days a week (and mowing the lawn on the 5th day!!), despite the fact that I’m round and pregnant and in the last trimester. I know, can you believe that? It seems like that would be something worth bragging about a long time ago, certainly something to write a lengthy blog post about. Only, I haven’t even had the desire to brag to blogdom about such things. But if I did, I’d tell you about Jillian Michaels and her Ripped in 30 program that includes circuit training with strength/weight lifting, cardio, and abs. And how its brutal, but wonderful. How it works every muscle group in my body, but still only takes 30 minutes a day. And I’d stress the fact that I’m still doing lunges, push ups, and high knee running in my third trimester!!! Okay, so I really am bragging now and just casually managed to sneak that in to a blog post about my inability to blog. Nice work, Kath.
Anyway… in addition to my morning work outs, I’d tell you how I manage to keep the kids quiet so I can work out. How I put my exercise DVD in the computer, and put in a movie for the boys on the TV behind me. My boys are early risers since we started watching the extra little boys, so there’s no more exercising in peace and quite before the kids get up. Which is sort of a bummer, but sort of good too. The early bird gets the worm, right? This morning, the kids chose Sid the Science kid from the stack of library DVD’s that we checked out this week. While I exercised, they learned about friction, drag, and force… and loved it. Nice work, Kids.
After working out, I’d tell you that we all get dressed and fresh and ready for the day. No small (or short!!) feat when you’re dealing with 5 little boys under the age of 5. Only of course, this morning it was only 3 little boys which is sooooo much easier. (wink wink). I’d tell you how we sit down for breakfast, usually cereal and milk with assorted fresh fruit. I’d tell you how I made my own vanilla latte (okay, a poor mans latte, with strong coffee and steamed milk sweetened with vanilla syrup) and you’d smile because you’d know that for the first 5 months of this pregnancy I couldn’t drink coffee without being sick. I’d describe the joy and pleasure I feel to be able to enjoy a bit of coffee now and then, and you’d laugh at how I enjoyed a steaming cup of joe even with the temperature being 95 degrees. Because I’d also tell you, that after the heat wave this past week of 105-109 degrees every day, that a mere 95 degrees feels like a reprieve. And it really does. Maybe you have to live in the South, or round and pregnant, to understand that, but its true.
I’d probably tell you how I eat shredded wheat or some other high fiber cereal for most breakfasts (granola etc), and how yesterday I worked out really hard, drank my homemade latte, and forgot to eat breakfast and ended up nearly passing out while grocery shopping at the commissary. Low blood sugar no doubt after not eating anything substantial for 4 hours even with a workout. I’d tell you that I needed to hold onto the shopping cart to stand up, and that my arms were shaking and my face was flushed, but even still I refused to open the container of roasted almonds and carton of chocolate milk (that I decided where the best food choices to right my blurry vision)until we’d paid for them. And you’d cringe and console and remind me “EAT YOUR BREAKFAST, PREGNANT LADY!!” And I’d agree. Because it was really scary. What if I’d been driving? Snacks are now in my purse.
As a result, I’d make a point of telling you that I ate a good breakfast this morning so as not to have a repeat of yesterday. I’d have told you that I was distracted from food yesterday because I was so focused on our “morning devotions with mom” (i.e. me). I’d tell you that the boys and I had previously been reading through Catherine Vos’s A Childs Story Book, but needed a change of pace (and perhaps a shorter lesson so as to keep the attention spans of the extra little boys I watch who aren’t used to sitting still for long periods) so we switched to reading 365 Great Bible Stories: The Good News of Jesus from Genesis to Revelation, by Carine McKenzie. Even though we just started it, I’d tell you how much I like this book already-- it has no pictures of Christ in it, which is hard to come by for the Reformed people like me who prefer children’s books that way.
I’d tell you about our morning devotions with mom routine, and how we’re working on the Children’s Catechism, and that Noah (2 years old) can answer the first 10 questions with minimal assistance. I’d tell you about the lazy rut we got stuck in, and how we’re breaking out of it to memorize Scripture verses each morning again. Today we are memorizing John 1:1, and the kids can already rattle it off. Minds like sponges, I’d tell you, so don’t waste these early years.
After breakfast and before the kids run off, I’d tell you about our library book reading time on the couch each morning. About how each child picks a few books from the library basket and how we all snuggle together to read. I’d tell you, how we read half fiction and half non-fiction and how I’ve discovered that my boys prefer non-fiction to anything else. They want and like to hear about what’s real. Oh sure, they love a good fairy tale, but they’d almost always choose a book about steam engines or space craft or tornadoes or firefighters over “something that’s not even true, Mom” (to quote Isaiah). I’d probably tell you how Noah took a fancy to a fictional book about a scary snorklum, and now runs around screaming about being scared, and about the snorklum coming to get him. Silly kid.
I’d tell you how the boys are loving our library’s summer reading program and how they run to keep track of each 20 minutes of reading they either do themselves or have read to them. I’d tell you how Joshua loves reading, and how Isaiah loves flash cards. And how Noah just likes snuggling, pointing, and shouting about different things on the pages.
And that’s probably all I would tell you about in a real blog post, but I’m sure I’d have some fitting stories and anecdotes, some nice pictures and some brilliant insights. Or at least I’d write it beautifully, with the words that captivated and inspired so that you felt like you were really there.
Not like this blog post.
Which is a cheap shot sort of blog post.
But even still, its my weak attempt at getting back to blogging.