Being home…

Today and tomorrow I am babysitting a friend’s three kids. It has been a long time since I haven’t worked at the property all day or been out running errands for the building project. I forgot how much I love being home and being a homemaker.

My day started at 11:55pm last night. I had been asleep for about an hour when I heard the dreaded smoke detector chirp. It startled me awake sending me into fight or flight. I crawled out of bed and met up with my honey in the hallway while trying to figure out which detector was chirping. Of course, it has to be the one at the peak of the vaulted ceiling. My honey put on some slippers, grabbed the key to our shed and headed out the back door to get the ladder. We removed the detector, then the battery and headed back to bed. Sleep tried to elude me as I laid in the dark, wondering how we would change the detector batteries at our new home, with a vault considerably higher than the one here. After a couple games of solitaire on my little handheld game, I was able to fall asleep. The sugar and gluten I had eaten woke me at 4:30. I used the toilet, crawled back into bed and gave the cat a minute of attention before drifting back to sleep.

After waking again at 5:30, I decided to give up on getting more sleep. I knew my alarm would be going off soon. I needed to eat breakfast, feed the cat, do my morning chores, bring the papers in and read the funnies before 7:00am. The van windows would take about five minutes to clear of frost enough to drive to the property by 7:15. There I would load up three windows, take them into town to get them tinted for the fake gables, pick up our two older grands at their mom’s work, and get back to my house by 9:00am to be home for when a friend was going to drop off her three younger kids for a couple days. This would be the first time they could be without kids in a couple years.

The rest of the day was filled with prepping lunch for everyone before hearing “When’s lunch?” “I’m hungry!” Same for snacks. My 12 year old granddaughter and I prepped a batch of chicken enchilada soup together, for them to take home. They are moving closer to us this week, and I know how hard it can be to plan meals and cook when you are packing and moving. The soup, and another meal were instant pot ready, which I knew she/mom would be keeping out. There were some minor altercations to deal with, a few hurt feelings also, but the laughter and squeals of joy far outnumbered the unpleasantries. Our grands and the three other kids finally found a play rhythm and fun ensued.

Dinner was prepped by snack time, and I felt relaxed and content, noise and all. I had forgotten how much I love being a housewife/mom/grandma. I get great pleasure from happy children noises, meals ready when hunger sets in, reading bedtime stories with funny voices, hugging and comforting a child whose feelings got hurt. I love being home.

My mom used to tell me I was born in the wrong century. I should have been born in the Little House on the Prairie days. I would have loved that life. I often find myself trying to recreate the simplicity of that lifestyle. Being a mom who raises kids to be responsible, loving, hard working human beings. Cooking and preserving. It suits me. It may not suit everyone, but I find myself in it. And life is best when we find our lane, and stay in it, instead of trying to be what others think we should be.

With the new year upon us, if you are doing any introspection or resolutions, I hope you will find or decide what you are best at, and resolve to stay in your lane, regardless of the peer pressure to do contrary. And, may you find great joy and contentment in doing so.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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