Everyday.

Everyday.

I'm sitting here with a baby perched on my shoulder and the keyboard perched on my knees.  My feet are up on the desk giving me enough space to comfortably type but not so much space he can arch backwards and go flying.  It is a balancing act, just like so many things in life.  And six babies into this mom thing I'm getting pretty good at tensing the right muscles in my arms and shoulders to manuever him back into position without breaking my though process.

Everyday I get up in the morning, usually to a baby just starting to fuss.  He is a good kiddo and quiet usually so it's a more gentle wake-up than some of my other kids have been.  Every morning I take a quick shower, hoping the water is piping hot - I'm mastering the running of the dishwasher at just the right time so that the water is reheated and waiting for me.  Then I gather bottles that are scattered in my room from all our middle of the night feedings.  I generally try to pray at night while I feed him, but sometimes just keeping my eyes open is all I can muster. 

If the baby stayed awake, he goes downstairs with me and I start the marathon that is breakfast.  First unload the dishwasher and keep out the things I'll need. Four bowls, four spoons and the high chair tray go on the table with five cups of milk - four 1% and one that is whole - then bags of cereal and a gallon of milk.  Hubs gets a little more attention from me - sausage, eggs, mushrooms, cheese - all folded neatly into an omelet when I can get it to flip right, otherwise a scramble.  He doesn't complain either way.  Then I grab something for myself - usually a protein shake and some oatmeal.  Depends on the day and my mood.  Then I holler breakfast is ready and my little people come running.  They fill most of the seats at the table and so it begins.

Everyday.

And you know what, I love it.  Sure, some days it feels like such a crazy routine.  Four kids to get dressed, two to supervise.  Deadlines of getting everyone buckled into their seats so we can get to the right place at the right time.  Is it a lot?  Yes.  Is it overwhelming?  Well, sometimes. 

I remember after the twins were born laying in bed when I woke up in the morning and crying quietly to myself.  I remember feeling like I could. not. do. this. one. more. time.  (And I'm sorry, anyone who is not willing to say having twins is hard is either crazy or lying.  Totally worth it, but hard.)  I remember feeling so defeated just by getting up in the morning wondering how I would make it through another day.  And honestly with both babies since then the fear of that feeling has been there.  But the difference is that I think I am convince, now more than ever, that God has equipped me for this task.  That doesn't mean it is easy or that every day is sunshine and roses, but that I can count on strength for one more moment from Him. 

This life is not my own.  I have been blessed with these babies and it is my job and my delight to train them up in the way they should go.  Lord willing, the return on my investment will yield some great results for the Kingdom of Heaven and many lives will be blessed because of them.