Oh My

We seem to be settling into our school year routines pretty well, here. Life is hectic and as our kids get older, it seems to be more and more so, which is never something you consider when they're small. You tend to think of the round-the-clock feedings and sleepless nights as being the ultimate expenditure of your energy, that things will get easier as they get older. And while that's true in some ways, the running around and generally scattered nature of parenting pre-teens (and, I presume, parenting teenagers) just replaces it. I think it's less an expenditure of energy now as it is one of time.
It is really easy to state what you will and won't be as a family when your dear ones are little. It's another thing entirely to live it out. And setting aside face-time, time to really connect with your kids, becomes a real challenge. Not one that you read about in parenting magazines. A real-life, true-for-you-too challenge.
That said, we really enjoyed our Blackout Night yesterday. Once again, we faced down a series of compromises and settled for what we could. Pork chops being the only food in the house and needing to be cooked before they rotted meant that dinner did require electricity, but we ate at the table in the candle light, chips crunching away and mingling with my homemade lime and cilantro salsa. Jokes and conversation abounded and the quiet house made it easier to really see each other in spite of the dim light.
We headed over to my brother's new house after dinner. Jon and Sarah bought a humongous new place that will need a little bit of work but was a great deal. Jon is great at finding deals - always has been. He's a shifty one, that Jon. Some of the work is voluntary. They are knocking out a few walls to open up a really great-big great room. So, the boys all taught my man cub how to wield a rubber mallet and smash things really, really hard. The swells of testosterone could be detected for a five-block radius. There were wall-kicking techniques passed on (the heel - not the toe) and 2x4s to split (hit it at the bottom, Drew), countertops to rip out (I believe my husband handled that single-handedly) and wires to be cautious of (let's take the face plate off before you smash over there, Drew). All of this in the space of an hour.
And that is not to diminish the high-quality work of estrogen surveying the empty rooms. Emma's fingers were snapping as fast as her plans were popping for where to put rugs and where she'd sleep when she got to spend the night at Uncle Jon's house and which room the Guest Room really ought to be, no matter what Aunt Sarah may have in mind.
Then we returned home in silence, salvaging what we could of our Blackout policies. No Nintendos in the car; no radio either. Just bickering children, high on the adrenaline of an hour well spent.
We put them to bed and lit our candles at home. I worked on invitations for my Autumnal Equinox party in the dark. I sent them out (mostly) today and sincerely hope they actually look nice in the light.

I have no idea how this party will turn out. It has been a rousing success in the past (examples here and here), but this year I have virtually no budget and had to move the date to the day before the Equinox due to our flight out to visit Chris' family the day after the Equinox. No way was I throwing a dinner party for 20 and then getting up at 4 AM to catch an airplane. No way, no how.
I am just this evening grasping the reality of what the next two weeks hold for me. It's daunting. And I'm hiding out by ignoring it and making things unrelated to the tasks at hand and sometimes watching Doo-Wop specials on PBS. I do love me some old music.
But there is the Equinox party to be thrown for 20-ish folks, a one-week trip to pack and plan for (and a little something to make for my nephew who I haven't even met yet), two sleepovers this weekend, at least one birthday party to attend every weekend for the next three weekends, and Emma's birthday party plans to have in place. Her birthday will be less than a week after our return home from the trip.
I do so dislike letting people down, but I am quite sure that now, if ever, will the time I step into utter failure as a friend/mom/mom-of-a-friend/wife/daughter/employee/pastor/anything else.
But this is Terrible Thursday. So I haven't time to think of it all. I'm afraid if I do, I will curl up into a ball and not make it to ballet tonight for my Emma. That would be Failure #1, and I'm not quite ready for that. I will save Failure #1 for a more obvious, more vexing moment. Yes. That's just what I'll do.

DAILY BLISS: An Excellent Watermelon.