Mayhem

A beautiful picture like this

hides the marvelous mayhem that is my life.

Sometimes, I manage to get through an hour, a day, sometimes days run into a week where I don't realize just how marvelous this mayhem is, 

but then it will hit me and my response is somewhat unpredictable. 

I've been known to just need a cry.

Or, sometimes something will just strike me as so very funny that it turns into rivers of tears.

Like when showing up for a photoshoot for another family of five, the mom climbs out of the car, a terrified look on her face with the confession that she has forgotten her son's pants. And he has none to wear for the family photos. 

Tears, tears, tears ran down my face the rest of the day every time I tried to tell the story.

Or when out the other night, two of the three in tow and a third crying in my husband's grasp, I realize he has nonchalantly thrown my purse across his chest and is wearing is as proudly as can be out of the restaurant. 

Or when my house looks like this

and I just don't know where to start.

Or, when I read articles like the following and I can't decide if I'm actually laughing or hysterically crying when I'm reading it because someone else appears to "get it", 

to "get" the marvelous mayhem of our beautiful life.

"Three Under Three"

by Paige Kellerman

It’s safe to say the general public is less at ease now that the Kellermans have multiplied.

September brought with it a new baby boy, and the certainty Husband and I have no idea what’s going on anymore. Really, the only thing we’re sure of is leaving the hospital and making it back to the right house. At least, we’ve been paying the mortgage on this place, so I hope it’s ours. The dirt on the floors feels familiar.

Also, I’m fairly sure I recognized the neighbors and the fear in their eyes when they realized we hadn’t just bought a minivan for show.

Now that the split-level is home to two adults, three kids under three and a dog with serious emotional and high maintenance issues, the chaos that was once turned to a dull roar has been unceremoniously turned up again. Because of this, Husband and I have little time to finish a complete thought, let alone feed ourselves.

I really miss eating.

The lack of energy, sustenance and a place to use the bathroom where we’re not being observed like apes in the wild has led to mental delays on both our parts. On occasion, it can take hours to get an intelligible response from the other person. For example, early on Saturday morning, Husband will ask, “Did you remember to buy toilet paper?”

A whole day will pass before I find the presence of mind to answer. This leads usually leads to something embarrassing, like screaming, “Yes, I bought toilet paper. It’s quilted. Quit asking,” at the poor gas station attendant on Sunday afternoon.

When we’re not working on remembering to answer the other person’s questions, Husband and I are staring at each other, trying to figure out what day it is and who we owe money. After we narrow it down by what utilities are on and whether we put stamps or smiley face stickers on the cable bill, it’s time to check on the children. Husband looks at me expectantly. “Who needs to be changed?”

“Who?”

“The kids. Which one needs to be changed?”

I stare into space. “Probably all of them. How many do we have now?”

“Three.”

“An even number. That’s good.”

Husband grabs my shoulders, trying to get me to focus. “That’s not an even num…. never mind. Just tell me where they went. And try to keep it together, woman.”

Motioning towards the stairs, I manage. “Well, I did see two people run through here, and I thought they smelled. They were also drawing on their hands with pen, pointing at me, and yelling, “We find you.” I suggest you head north. Godspeed.”

The end of the day usually finds us sitting on the couch and watching TV. There’s nothing like having a beer, relaxing and jumping at every little sound:

Was that the house settling, or did someone throw a stuffed animal that lost favor into the box fan?

Does the baby need to eat again?

And most importantly, how have we been watching TV for the last two hours without ever remembering to turn it on?

Read more here: http://joco913.com/news/paige-kellerman-three-under-three/#storylink=cpy

Let's marvel in the mayhem today, friends.

Whether it's absurd deadlines or crazy bosses or mountains of laundry... 

or the shattered lunch plate across my kitchen floor presently from a certain nameless toddler,

ah...

the mayhem.

There's something beautiful in it...


right?