Everyday

It's Friday, and it's been a while, so I am going to take five minutes (give or take a minute or two) to write a little bit about my everyday.  Want to join me?  Head over to Gypsy Mama and join the crowd.  It's a great way to unwind at the end of the week.  Or so I think...

(Please note: when I headed over to Gypsy Mama's blog, I realized that the topic was actually "In Real Life," not everyday.  I don't have the energy to re-do this, so I'm just going to pretend that the topic was "Everyday."  Bear with me...we are all adjusting to our new 5:30 wake up call by my John-John, and the lack of sleep is showing up everywhere)

These days, every day, I am hating my kitchen.  Let's just get real.  The plumber has been here three times since we moved in, and the dishwasher still leaks.  The sink is weird, and something about it's angle causes water to go everywhere every time I was dishes by hand, which is, of course, every time I wash dishes.  And sometimes, in the midst of that everyday reality, it is easy for me to throw myself a little pity party, right in the middle of the piled up dishes and water everywhere.  And I remember my old (new) kitchen.  The one that no one had used before me. 

And when John wakes us all up at 5:30, again, I sigh loud enough to make sure God hears--I don't want him to miss my frustration--because wasn't he supposed to make this an easy transition?  Wasn't the hard over with?  (I know, washing dishes by hand and waking up at 5:30 doesn't even begin to cover hard, but in my everyday they are certainly inconveniences).  I am sleepy, and, let's be honest, I miss my old (much bigger) house.  Ada misses it too, and she tells me that a lot.  

But you know what is also included in my everyday?  This...these giant, wonderful, peaceful, move with the wind, shade from the sun trees.  They are right outside my kitchen window, and under them we spend our everyday afternoons.  And here is where we practice latin and history sentences and general family togetherness.  

I hate my kitchen, but even more than that, I love my backyard.  I love my backyard.  And guess what, my new-old kitchen can do all of the things that the other one did, but that new backyard couldn't do what this one can.  It takes a long time to grow trees like that.

This old dump truck that belonged to Scott was hidden in the garage because it was really hard to take John outside at our house.  Now, this dump truck is John's everyday.  And I am so glad.

And art is still a part of Ada's everyday.

And best of all, I am still their everyday, even when we didn't know if Scott would get another "real" job.  This house is just a tool that enables me to be with them, all the time, everyday.  And I am so thankful.