What am I doing again?

I promised the kids we'd make blueberry pancakes this morning, because that's what the kids in a book we've been reading eat. I also told R NOT to wake me up.

She came to my room at 6:40.

I looked at the time, laid back down and told her to scram.

At 8 we made breakfast.

At 9 we cleaned up.

At 10 we dressed them all.

At 11 they left with E and T to see the Winnie the Pooh movie.

I took Baby I to the park, couldn't find anyone to talk to and/or hit on. I took him home. Put him to bed. And went back to sleep.

I got up, cleaned up what was left in the dining room from Shabbat and went back to sleep.

I got up, made myself lunch and went back to sleep.

I got up, checked on the baby, read my book and went back to sleep.

None of these naps were long. None of them were very good. But my goodness, my eyes wouldn't stay open.

The kids came home sleeping and E and T went upstairs to sneak out to their smoking lounge. It cracks me up because T tries to cover the smell with sprays and perfumes and yet they forgot to take into consideration the fact that the alarm panel in the kitchen chimes every time a door opens. If all three kids are asleep and I'm on the first floor and no doors are opening down here...

I mean, you don't have to be a detective. That's all I'm saying.

Baby I woke up and I fed him lunch and then T took him upstairs and I went back to sleep.

It was 5 before anyone did anything, and then all we did was heat up leftovers and put the kids to bed. But that took four hours.

You can see that I haven't been all that interesting today.

But at the tail end of dinner E came home from a tennis game and while T was putting the baby to bed and we were waiting around for J to eat his dinner, E and I started talking about kids.

He asked me about being from a big family and if I planned to have one. He laughed when I told him NO WAY. Unless, of course, all thirty of them are adopted.

So I guess I do want a big family. I just don't want to HAVE it.

Anyway, we chatted for a bit and I changed my opinion of him a little. I didn't dislike him before, but I didn't think he was all that personable. But now I suppose he is and he also has a good sense of humor.

I've been thinking a lot about my role here and how exactly I'm supposed to be a witness in a household that denies Christ as the Messiah. And at various points of interaction throughout the last weeks and days I've wondered about this. If I'm openly challenged about my faith, I have no problem offending the challenger with my steadfast defense of the Gospel. But when I'm not confronted, I tend to side step the issue.

Also, I'd like to not get fired.

And while this uncertainty has been with me since I got here, it just dawned on me the other day how many hymns (especially ones about Jesus) have been stuck in my head lately, even though I haven't been to church regularly. And how conversations keep opening up where I can talk about my family and our faith and how it's real and part of our lives and not just an affiliation with a church that means nothing in the day-to-day grind.

And so I realized in the course of the last few evenings and then again after my time with E tonight, that I am here to live Christ, not necessarily speak Christ.

I just have to learn to be ok with that even when I want to teach the kids Jesus songs. Which is quite often.

Tonight while hanging out in the kitchen over dinner, Baby I started singing ABCs and then he laughed and ran to me with open arms. R gathered all fifty of her hair clips and bands and went into the playroom to get her shoes.

Mind you, she just turned four.

She was talking the whole way into the room, with her arms full of hair decorations and baby dolls. She finished whatever it is she was rambling about, stood in the middle of the play room, looked around and then came into the hallway to look at me in confusion.

"What am I doing again?"

I laughed at her quite openly and told her she was getting her shoes.

And I thought I was getting old before my time...