My Trench was made of Diet Coke and Poop!

Wow. It's been over a month. I have tried numerous times to get back here to post my straight-from-the-trenches story...even started typing it out twice (!!) but something (or three little someones) always interrupted me and eventually I lost what I had started.

So, right now, this beautiful Sunday afternoon, as I should be doing my menu-planning and grocery list-making, I will recount the events of that fateful day IN FULL with no interruptions as all FOUR of my boys (this counts Dear Hubby) take naps. Thus it occurred...

My oldest son (DS5) had to be on the local Christian radio station at 8 a.m. one morning. We had to leave the house at 7:30 which is VERY early for us "late-birds" as he likes to call us. I didn't want to wake my other children up so early, so I asked my mom to come over, with the promise of a "birthday breakfast" afterwards. (Her birthday had been the day before.)

Everything went beautifully. We made it to the station, DS5 did just what he was supposed to, we made it home just in time for the Baby to wake up and be fed, and everyone was dressed and ready by 9:30 a.m. We took her to McDonald's (Mom's birthday, but the kids are the ones celebrating) and all three boys even behaved well enough that Mom and I had a good chat while we ate. Ahh, heavenly.

Mom had to be at work by noon so we took her back to our house to get her car by 11 a.m. Since all three boys were already dressed, already fed, and already strapped into their carseats, I decided to take advantage of this opportunity to head into town to get a specific errand done. (I had portraits to pick up at Target.) First wrong choice.

As we got into town I remembered that I had some mail in my purse so I made a quick stop at the main post office. Parked the car, cracked the windows, locked the doors, and ran up to the building to shove the mail in the correct mail slot. In the less-than-a-minute it took for me to get back to the car and sit in my seat, something dreadful happened. You see, I had brought my newly refilled LARGE DIET COKE (LDC) with me from McDonald's to sip on during my errand run. My LDC was still almost completely full as I pulled into my spot at the post office. My LDC was empty and the top was askew when I got back in the car. Hmm...

I sat there staring blankly at the empty cup for a few seconds as my mind whirled around the possibility that I drank it and forgot. Suddenly, I realized what happened. I looked down and noticed that there was a rapidly running-toward-the-back-of-the-van puddle of LDC streaming under my seat. As I slowly turned around my eyes met those of my DS5 in the way-back seat of the van. He had decided that he wanted to sit in MY seat and watch me run up to the building and back. He has recently graduated into a booster seat and now has the power to strap and unstrap his little body into his seatbelt at will. Obviously, on his way into my seat he knocked over my LDC and spilled it all over the front of the van. Rather than tell me what happened he picked up the empty cup and put it back into the cupholder and sprinted (if that's possible in a minivan) back to his seat. And left me to discover the disaster on my own. Oh boy.

Although this was just a terrible accident, I was still very upset. Partially at my son for not telling me what had happened (I was lucky that the spill was on the floor and not in my seat or I would have sat right in it without knowing until it was too late!). But mostly, and I'm very ashamed about this but willing to admit it, because I really LOVE an LDC...and I had lost it in a matter of seconds! Sad, I know.

Well, since I was already in town and really wanted those portraits, I decided to continue on my way even though the upholstery in my van was getting stickier and Diet-Cokier as each second passed. (That's why they invented the Spot-Bot, but that's another post entirely.) I got to Target and hauled all three sons inside. Grabbed a cart. Baby in his bucket seat attached to the front. Check. DS3 in the back basket of the cart. Check. DS5 riding on the end of the cart. Check. All is harried, but well. We head over to the diaper section and as I'm quickly comparing prices in my head, I smell something. Something poopy. Not baby poopy, although I do start there first. DS3 was in the throes of potty-training and had been doing very well. He was wearing a pull-up (thank goodness not regular underwear) and even though I had asked him before we got the cart if he had to go to the bathroom, he decided to put his poop in his "underwear" instead. I should have known when he got quiet. He was crouching in the back of the cart. Telltale signs.

You might think that this is the last of my disaster-filled morning, but you would be wrong! Because of the poopy pants, I quit price checking and just grabbed the nearest diapers that were the right size, zipped to the portrait studio to pick up those portraits that started it all, and sprinted up to the registers. At this point, Baby is getting hungry and is starting to fuss. I pick the shortest line I see and empty the cart. Baby is really starting to cry now so I calmly soothe him with words and give him my knuckle to munch on while he waits. It doesn't work. I act unconcerned, but I REALLY WANT TO GET OUT OF TARGET AS FAST AS POSSIBLE! She rings up my purchases and after I stick my Target card into the reader I wait for the signature box to pop up. I wait. Still waiting. By this time my DS5 is dancing around and getting in the way of other customers, DS3 is still poopy and crouching in the back of the cart, and Baby is screaming. AHHHHHHHH!!! Oh wait...that was me screaming...and still waiting for the signature box.

To make a long story even longer, that computer froze. She called for "tech support" and a nice man came out of his computer-y office to help. His "help" was to take me to another lane and re-ring up my entire purchase. Yes, that's right. Unpack the cart, re-load it onto a different belt, re-ring everything, and re-pack the cart. And don't forget dancing DS5, poopy and crouching DS3, and screaming Baby.

(On a positive note, the nice tech support man gave me $7 cash for my trouble. I don't know how he came up with that number or why (I hadn't requested any compensation) but $7 is $7, right?) Is it a sign that I am a terrible writer when I use parentheses inside parentheses?

FINALLY, we get out to the car, load our purchases in and begin the awful process of changing DS3 into a new pull-up. Once that mess is cleared up, poopy diaper is properly disposed of, windows are down, and everyone is back into their seatbelts, I start the car and head out of the parking lot. And from the back seat I hear, "Mommy, I'm hungry. Can we go to McDonald's?"

I'll let you imagine for yourselves what my response was.

The End.

The Rockford Files: Introduction

I'm Karalin, currently a SAHM with three young boys in Rockford, Illinois. DS5 will be starting public school Kindergarten at the end of August, so that will be a huge change for us. DS3 is a VERY typical 3 year old right now. He and his older brother fight ALL OF THE TIME, but are also the first to come to each other's defense against other people (including me!). DS4months is a sweetie. He is so good-natured, sleeps through the night, patiently waits for his meals while I settle the older two into their next activity.

I was a first grade teacher in a public school before I had children and I LOVED it! But I always knew that I wanted to be home with my kids. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of paying someone else to watch my kids for most of their waking hours while I went and took care of OTHER people's children. Not for me. So, here I am five years later. It has gone by so fast!

So, that's me in a nutshell. I have some stories and some questions that I'll share or ask later. But right now I need to finish my menu plan/grocery list so that I can head to the store after I next nurse the baby.

Thanks Patty and April for letting me join in!

Stay tuned for a straight-from-the-trenches experience I had a couple of weeks ago...

Just a check in!

I just wanted to post really quick and let you know I am still here! We are full swing in summer vacation now. No early mornings, no backpacks! And my 21-month-old has been wearing only a diaper for most of the day! I am really relishing the days more this summer because...I may be a SAHM for only about 10 more weeks! I have been asked if I'm interested in a half-time teaching position right here in town. Part of me screams, "noooooooo! I'm not ready to go back to work!" but I know it would be great for our finances, and I would really enjoy it.
And...our electricity just "blinked". I think it's getting ready to storm, so getting off the computer would be a GOOD idea.
hugs to all!

Dressed for Success

So, when working from home, dressing the part of the working woman really helps to shift your mindset. I know a lot of people who work from home do that, so I've been trying it out. Sometimes it's as simple as changing out of my Teva sandals and into something with a heel. Today I'm wearing a fitted polyester skirt and biz casual sweater, in addition to the wedge sandals that have become my write-from-home uniform.

And while I haven't actually finished much of my list below, I'm starting to feel like I can, which is important.

Not Working

I like to plan. I like to plan more than I like to put my plans into practice. So I end up procrastinating actually doing what's on my plan to keep planning. Nothing gets done that way.

Another hitch in my planning is that my plans are dependent on the sleeping schedules of two other little people. And like the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, once you enter the situation and try to measure or categorize what's going on, you change it.

So of course just when I thought I had a good schedule going with my toddler, my baby decides it's time to start crawling. She doesn't want to sleep any more -- she wakes herself up and wants to crawl around the bed.

My hopes for the organization and high that come with working isn't materializing yet. But it may be that I'm just having an off day: it's raining, so no park for the kids; I slept in, so I lost a few hours; and I've been procrastinating up a storm, so I lost a few more hours.

Argh. Ok. Deep breath. Don't linger worrying about what you didn't do perfectly. What can I do now to get back on track?

• Check my schedule
• At least I am dressed and so are my kids.
• Figure out what to do with Maggie to wear her out for her nap.
• Start dinner in the crock pot.
• Look at budget and plan for a couple of extra expenses tonight.
• Write like mad as soon as the kids are sleeping.

Deep breath.

Here I go.

(Photo: freefoto.com)

Back to the Grind

I've taken another writing project with Content Divas so I'll be busy for the next two weeks (this time I'm doing a half-project instead of the full 22 days of submissions). I'm a little nervous since last time there were days where I felt like my writing kind of took over my life.

But I'm also excited. This stay-at-home-Mom is looking forward to devoting her brain to more than just working on grocery lists or the logistics of trying to get out of the house daily with two people under the age of three in tow. I've got high hopes for doing various aspects of my day better this time around than last. For example, I have my menus planned for the next three weeks (until we go on vacation!!), so hopefully that will be less of a slow-down point to my weeks.

Finally, I'm looking forward to the increased level of productivity that comes with having most of the day scheduled. Work -- especially working hard -- can be a high: many of us are naturally happy when we have real work to do (as opposed to my playing around on this blog and pretending that people read it). Not necessarily ecstatic, just content (and not depressed).

A podcaster I have come to really enjoy is Kh. Krista West on Ancient Faith Radio. She has some spot-on things to say on that final point (in fact, I think I took some of that point from her because it so resonated with my experience), so I'd like to point any readers I may have in the direction of her podcast "A Tailor’s reflections on the prayer of St. Ephraim" which is really an excellent reflection on the value of work.

So, wish me luck! It may be another bumpy ride, but I can only get better at it. :)

(Photo: FreeFoto.com)

The Microwaved-Coffee Cycle

Pour morning coffee. Get sidetracked and forget to drink it.

Stumble upon 3/4-full cup sometime later.

Sip. Too cold; doesn't taste right. Microwave.

Sip. Still doesn't taste right; lukewarm. Intend to keep drinking it, but forget.

Sip. Too cold; doesn't taste right. Microwave.

Sip. Too hot, burnt my tongue, and still doesn't taste right. Forget about it.

Reach for 1/2-full cup again.

Sip. Too cold; doesn't taste right. Microwave....
(Photo: freephotos.com)

There's Peanut Butter Expanding into a Grease Spot on My Wall

So, Happy Mother's Day!

There's unfolded (and some folded) laundry on my coffee table.
A pile of unmatched socks on the chair.
Cheerios crunch beneath my feet.
There's a lot of whining in my house (and my kids aren't the only culprits).

Happy Mother's Day!

There are dishes in my sink.
My daughter's poopy diaper exploded onto the chair.
My daughter is wearing her last diaper.
I need to go to the store to buy more diapers -- and I am not dressed, nor have I finished my coffee. (P.S. I have to walk... Husband has the car.)

Happy Mother's Day!

There is laundry in the dryer three flights of stairs below me.
Correction, it is probably in a heap on a table by now.
But at least we have relatively clean sheets on our beds.
And my bedroom looks pretty nice without piles of clothes on the bed frame and the baby's swing.

Happy Mother's Day!

A friend is coming to visit in an hour.
Did I mention I am not dressed, have to go to the store, and have one remaining diaper?
So why am I on the computer?
When was the last time I showered?

Happy Mother's Day!

We're having grilled cheese for lunch with that friend.
We have no bread -- I really do have to go to the store.
My daughter will bring home rocks for her rock jar while we are out.
I used to paint rocks and give them to my Mom for Mother's Day.

Happy Mother's Day!

My two-year-old is singing "Christ is Risen" from our Easter service in its entirety, over and over. She learned it so quickly!
The baby let me sleep in for an extra hour this morning.
The Angle cried to the Lady, full of grace, "Rejoice! Your son is risen from his three days in the tomb!"
Christ is Risen!

Happy Mother's Day!

Lazy Moms

A Mom who belongs to a Yahoo Group that I am a part of recently mentioned that her feeding decisions were based on her laziness. I'd like to second that. Laziness and cheapness (or, hem, frugality?) have influenced so many of my parenting decisions. In the frugal department, I sort of made it my goal to see how few baby items I could accumulate. Really didn't want to spend extra money on themed nursery gear.... As far as my laziness goes, I always figured that if my kid could do something for herself, then why should I baby her more than I already do?

I mean, kids are supposed to be babies in some ways (nursing, sleep habits, etc) but why extend parts of that babyhood rather than teaching them grown-up habits like eating for themselves (with a fork! -- drives me nuts when restaurant servers don't bring a set of silverware for my kids, but I suppose many people don't give their kids forks this early...), drinking from a cup (15 mos), helping to clean up spills they've made, or putting away their toys. And it helps that if you're nursing your kid, you don't have to worry about him getting all and enough of the right nutrients from food.

However, lest anyone fear are putting ourselves down by using the word "lazy" (as my brother told me, "lazy Mom" is an oxymoron), may I suggest that we are simply unwilling to make raising children harder than it is by introducing all sorts of intermediate steps (depending on the parent, pureed food, a crib, sippy cups... though I admit to doing some of these at times and not others, whatever makes the situation easier at the time) or by forcing "independence" earlier than necessary. And one Mom's lazy list will look different than another's, so please do not take offense at my list or assume that it is complete or preferred. All that said, I also don't like to contrive politically correct words for things, so I am still going to refer to myself as lazy.

Here's to all my fellow lazy Moms!

The Laundry Quandry

I think I am finally a convert to FlyLady's one load at a time idea. You do it all the way through (to folded and put away) before starting another one, and I may even start shooting for just one load a day, instead of trying to get "caught up" all the time and totally burning out on laundry. I'm not saying this will work for everyone, and if you have a working system in place, by all means use it! Some things I've realized...

One load a day: I do the laundry in fits and starts anyway. I bet if I spread the loads out to one a day, it would average out to one per day (excluding weekends), with maybe two loads here and there when I'm washing sheets.

One load at a time: again, unless I'm washing a load of sheets, I'd better do this, or I end up with clothes drying in the bathroom, folded in the basket, or in a pile somewhere.

One laundry basket!! Some time ago I switched to using one basket (and it's a small one too). This forces me to empty the basket (hopefully by putting the laundry away!) before I bring up or down another load. This has eliminated baskets of clean laundry all over the house.

One FULL load a day: we pay for our laundry in the basement of our apartment. The dryer does not work very well. If I'm only shooting for one load, I can afford (money AND time-wise) to run the dryer twice and get everything actually dry. Benefits are twofold: the clothes don't need to finish drying all over the bathroom and I can put them away when they come upstairs; and I can wash a few more items in that load than I would if I were trying to get it dry on one cycle because I'll be drying it twice!

And finally, I have shifted my idea of the "goal" of doing the laundry. I used to think that what you are striving for when you do the laundry should be almost no laundry all the time. I have decided that what I should be striving for is enough clean laundry to function. That means that there will always be a couple of loads in the sorter in the closet. As long as we are not constantly running out of towels or underwear, this is OK! People used to have one shirt to wear, one for the laundry, and one in the closet. Having something dirty and waiting to be washed is a natural part of that cycle. I am NOT failing if there are things that need to be washed, as long as I have clothes in the closet that can be worn.

And one other thing I have started to do is pull the dirty clothes from the bottom of the sorter first. Otherwise, I am constantly washing the same five shirts on top and the stuff at the bottom gets unworn for long periods of time.

Try Again?

And today I try a different writing preparation tactic: I am in my pajamas, last night's dinner dishes and this morning's breakfast ones mingle in the sink, crumbs are on my counters and table. And I write while I can! Because if I leave it too long it just might take over my life!

And my husband and kids miss me....

"Too Busy Not To...

...Pray, " goes the original saying. That is certainly the truth. While I don't always succeed at having a formal prayer time at the same time every day (or even at all every day), I try to at the very least pray short prayers throughout the day: "Pray at the seams of the day," says my priest. During my morning routine, I try to say Morning Prayers and a few Matins psalms. Before beginning dinner, I try to say a Vesper's Psalm -- OK, at least I try to cross myself before making dinner: I see this as a prayer without words.

Prayer should still be the foundation of our day; but this week, I have become aware that I am especially "too busy not to finally put my routines into practice." I have finally been given a writing project from a company I signed up with a few months ago. I didn't expect it to happen this week: I had plenty of things planned already! So, to keep myself and the house from falling apart in the process (stressing out myself and my husband, and probably the kids too), I have been focusing on my routines.

I awake feeling the pressure of a project for which I am not completely prepared or entirely confident in my abilities, but I know that I will be inefficient in my work and precious little around the house will get done if I jump onto the computer in my pajamas, with a cup of coffee as my breakfast, and with my bed unmade and my cat box full of... well, you get the picture. I see it as motivation to finally reclaim my routines and reap the rewards of having them under my belt.

So, before I begin to attack today's list, I am clothed (and showered!), my bed is made, my bathroom Swished and Swiped, my cat box scooped, oatmeal with blueberry jam is in my tummy, my dishes from breakfast are done, and my dining table and kitchen counters are wiped down (OK, I still see some oatmeal flakes on the counter -- we're not going for Martha Stewart here, just FlyLady). And before I begin, I should also say a prayer.

A rare opportunity for a rambling post!

This may be very random, but I have both little ones sleeping, the only sound I hear is the hum/rattle of the dryer. (The dryer is almost constantly running in this house.) I was thinking this morning about how I baby my baby. She is almost 20 months old, and I still carry and hold her a lot. She is small for her age, and I know she is my last baby, so that is part of it. Sometimes I feel guilty that maybe I am "spoiling" her...but I know she will only be tiny for a little while, so I am cherishing the times that I can hold and squish and cuddle her.
I've also been thinking about the blessing of the older seasons of childhood. My oldest two are able (not always willing, but able!) to help a lot more, and it frees me up for things I have to get done sometimes. Some days-SOME, not all-it is actually easier having 4 kids than it was having 2. I can have one of the older ones entertain and watch when I have to run out to the van and get something. I can have one of the older ones buckle or unbuckle the younger ones' car seats, too. I know sometimes they really hate having to help, but I hope they are learning about compassion and about family working together.
Well, there was the buzz of the dryer. I should fold that laundry now while it is peaceful, and then...I am actually contemplating taking a nap! That doesn't happen often! :) I wish you all a grand afternoon.

Seven Months and Counting

I sit typing this with one hand, holding a seven-month-old baby to my left breast with my left hand as my nearly three-year-old daughter sneaks under my right arm to nurse on the right, the side I'm typing with. I have been tandem nursing now for seven months, and it has been an interesting experience. At no point has it really been easy; however, it has been doable and, at times, even pleasurable.

Like this afternoon when I was able to coordinate our three naps into the same two-hour period, my baby's warm head cradled sweatily on my arm, my toddler draped over my other side to reach the breast slightly tilted away from her for the baby's benefit. We listened to the newly-returned birds chirping in the tree outside the window, finally open to admit a cool Spring breeze. One available breast persuaded my baby to close her eyes a little earlier than she might have, and the other drew my toddler to me like an alphabet magnet is drawn to the fridge, helping me convince her to stay put instead of "play toys" just long enough to bring on sleep. Snuggled under the comforter on our king-size bed, we drifted off, the day-time sleep healing to me and simply a part of daily life for my children.

So it is with afternoons like this that I number the months of nursing two, not thinking too much about how and when and if I will ever nurse just one again, hoping it will not evolve into nursing three (I may have to put my foot down somewhere). But for now, I dwell in the moments that I find enjoyable, the baby playing with the toddler's hair, the toddler trying to manipulate my breast back into the distracted baby's mouth ("Have a milk! Have a milk!" she says), the two of them holding hands, looking into each other's eyes, and gulping down my gift to them, my milk.

Perfectionism

As a typical "SHE" (Sidetracked Home Executive), I began this blog in a whirlwind of inspiration and excitement. I whipped out an introductory post in about ten minutes, April jumped in with her hilarious (and so familiar) sleeping-in time line, and I had plenty of ideas for new posts. But every time I thought about beginning a new post, something would stop me. I can't post another time line right after April's. I can't post about that -- it would sound cliché. I can't post about this, I'd overuse my fighting metaphor. It's not going to sound right. I don't have time to make this perfect. And so I post nothing.

As FlyLady is fond of pointing out, it is often perfectionism that causes people to procrastinate or to do nothing at all. Our sinks contain dirty dishes because we think we don't have time to do them all. We couldn't possibly do just a few when we have time -- or as we use them. Our floors have "crusties" on them because we don't have time to sweep the whole house (or clean the whole house, because we have to do this housecleaning thing right). It doesn't occur to us to sweep one room's floor or simply under the table after a meal. Our kid's doctor appointments (let's forget our own) go unscheduled, our walls unpainted, and our blogs unposted because we haven't found the perfect time, the perfect color, the perfect words.

For most things, we just need to start somewhere. "Starting is the hardest part," everyone tells us. But when all we see as we look at a project, or even what should be a simple task, is the whole (magazine-perfect) picture, then how do we begin? What if we truly cannot find a starting point? What if we do not even realize that beginning means "finding a starting point," which involves being able to break down a task into smaller pieces?

Everything we do can be broken down into manageable tasks. Everything. And especially the things we think we cannot do. It is easier to do this with some things than with others, but the principle still applies. If I want to write a blog post, some days the inspiration will fall from heaven (those are the fun days), but other days, I just have to start writing. If want I write doesn't work, I don't have to post it. I can throw it away. If I want to paint my bedroom, I have to make some decisions, do some window shopping or pick a theme or pattern I would like to emphasize in that room. If I don't like the color, I can paint over it.

Or is something else stopping me? Am I failing to begin because I don't want to (or don't know how to) do the work myself? Can I find someone to show me or do it for me? Am I avoiding my broom because it is shaped like a paintbrush instead of having a flat end that actually moves the dirt into the dustpan? (Ask my mother and mother-in-law about their opinion of my old broom.) Obviously, I need to replace my tool for this job.

It takes practice to analyze our actions and thoughts and to discern our reasons for them. FlyLady has helped me to learn to do this, but it took me a long time to be good at it. The constant inner-monologue argument can be exhausting, but it is worth it if we come out better people with more dishes done, more rooms decorated, more blog posts written.

Sleep in? Ha!

Saturday night. My DH says "you can sleep in tomorrow, honey." That is one of my favorite sentences to hear-it ranks up there with "Here is $100. Go buy yourself something nice-nothing for the kids." So here for your entertainment is a timeline of the sleeping in experience. I wonder if it is only like this at my house...

6:32 a.m. The baby wakes up. DH takes her downstairs, leaving our door closed and the curtains closed. The electric blanket is on, got the bed all to myself...zzzzz...

6:41 a.m. 6-year-old DD enters. "Where's Ella? Where's Daddy?" "They are downstairs, I am sleeping in. Daddy might make you pancakes." That is enough info to get her out of the room.

6:48 a.m. 3-year-old DD enters with enough commotion to make me wonder if I should call the NFL or maybe sign her up for kick-boxing. Oh, and the cat comes in with her. I manage to eject her to find daddy, baby sis and pancakes, but the cat can stay.

7:04 a.m. Cat pounces on and bites my toe. Cat is undelicately ejected from the room. Sleeping in is not going so well...

7:18 a.m. Huge THUD shakes the whole house. I still don't know what it was, but since there were no wails or sirens afterward, I didn't go investigate.

I almost gave up, but here is the happy ending to the story. That was the last interruption, and after that I slept-until 9:30 a.m.!

This is the first time I've contributed to a blog. I know Patty and I are going to have tons of fun posting from the trenches, and I hope that it's just as much fun to read it. :)

the trenches

Motherhood: it is a fight. We battle messy floors. We tackle dirty dishes. We wrestle energetic children into naps. Many of the battles we fight are with our kids or the debris caused by their energetic needs. We put in one load of laundry; our kids spill enough juice and splash in enough mud to make two more. We "clean as we go" in the kitchen while making dinner, and as soon as the meal is over, the counter top is piled high with plates and forks and quickly crusting pots. And before we can think about attacking it, someone needs a new diaper or another cup of water.

We try our best to train our children to act properly so that they will one day emerge as productive citizens and, in the case of our family, faithful Christians. However, day to day, we may see little order and less progress. It seems that only once a week do I see a clean counter top while the sun is out. Once a month are all the floors swept in the same seven-day period. In order to stay sane, we must keep the goal in mind. We must run the race in order to finish. One day we will have the presence of mind to clean efficiently and enjoy the fruits of our labor, gazing at clear table tops and counters as we recline with a fresh cup of coffee and a magazine. And our houses will be eerily quiet because all the little mess-makers will have flown the nest.

As long as we don't compare ourselves too often to those whose kids have grown and who have honed their motherhood and housekeeping battle skills, as long as we don't become mired in landscapes of food-covered skillets and yesterday's breakfast dishes, as long as we remember that our kids won't need this intensive parenting forever, we will make it through to the other side: we will emerge as talented, fun, faithful women once more. We will have the friendship of our precious children to accompany us into old age. And we will watch them take up their swords and begin their own battles.