Vitafamiliae

Did you ever have one of those weird moments where you step outside your body and view your world?  Where you picture what someone would see if they walked in the door and watched your little life in motion?

We finished school for the morning.  I’m doing an entire month of Thanksgiving-related activities, one of which is a Thankfulness Tree.  With the help of my crafty neighbor, I traced and cut out a big brown tree with branches.  I needed lots and lots of colorful fall leaves so that we could write something we are thankful for each day and decorate our tree.  My sweet neighbor made me some beautiful leaves, complete with tiny brown stems.

I was not as ambitious.  For the rest of my required leaves, I printed out a leaf template and traced them onto construction paper.  Stems were not included.  While I sat at the table with my stack of construction paper, the children crowded around me excitedly.

Willa was in bed, but the rest of the kids were right at my elbows.  Adam sat on my right, practically in my lap.  (He’s been very clingy lately.)  He recited his version of “eeinie-meenie-minie-moe, catch a tiger at his toe…” over and over again to… nobody.  Sam and Ian climbed on the dining room chairs and onto the table so they could eagerly watch me make leaves.  (I wonder if this is because they see me being crafty so rarely?)  They spilled the water bottles on the table and knocked over my carefully stacked piles of construction paper.

Meanwhile, Ellen was buzzing in my left ear.  When she saw me making leaves, she brought me the stack of leaves that “Miz Bwook” gave us.  I thanked her.  But that wasn’t enough.  She wanted to bring me more leaves.  Only there weren’t any more.  I had to make them.  So she fussed and fretted, “I bwing you weeves,  Mommy.  Dah weeves…”

“Yes, Ellen.  Thank you.”

“I wan bwing you weeves.”

“You already did.  I thank you.”

“Nooooo.  Whyyyyy?  Da weeves, Mommy?”

And here is where our communication totally broke down.  I have no idea why she was upset about the leaves, but she was.  That’s really all you need to know.

It was at this point that I floated up out of my body (maybe I was trying to find my Happy Place) and saw myself, wearing pajama bottoms and a nice sweater because my only pair of postpartum jeans were in the wash, sitting at the table, tracing leaves on construction paper while my wiggly brood of children crawled all over me, chanted songs, and chattered simultaneously.

It was a tad surreal.

Who knew this would be my life?  Who knew these would be My People?  And who knew little construction paper leaves could cause such excitement and consternation in my world?

This totally isn’t the life I imagined.  It’s way better.