Now that school is in full swing, I think weekends were given by the Creator as a way to say, “Just hold on. You got this!”
We are well into the 9 weeks and can I brag?
Because Team Banks is in full effect with Jason’s help, I have been EARLY for work every day.
Not on time.
Not late (like I was 90% of last year).
I almost feel like when I walk in the Pep Band and cheerleaders should be there with confetti cannons to cheer me on.
“You did it! You got your crap together! All your people survived! They are dressed and fed!”
But Friday morning had given me one who was embarrassed and hormonal, one who was hangry and full of tears, one who was aggravating everyone else for a laugh, and one who was just along for the ride.
Saturday came and I was ready for a reset.
Jason was getting ready for a new class he is taking called Krav Maga.
In his effort to be a well rounded killing machine, he is adding an Israeli fighting style to his repertoire.
I’m cool with it. He keeps us safe should someone want to attack and take down our crazy train…plus, he looks adorable in the pants.
He was rushing around trying to get ready and he asked me if I’d run downstairs to look for his karate pants.
I bound down the stairs, walk through Max’s room, and stop dead in my tracks.
Our laundry room.
Dirty clothes on the floor.
Clean clothes…well, piled everywhere.
I didn’t even know where to start looking for the karate pants! It would’ve been like a strategic game of Jenga should I tried to pull anything out.
“See…you’re a mess. You can’t keep up. This is just the first week of school. You’re doomed. And so are your kids.”
“Well hello there Satan…that didn’t take long! Record time actually! Now get outta here. I have pants to find.
Pants were found and Jason was off to fine tune his weapons.
I came upstairs to find the remnants of dinner the night before on the coffee table.
I usually clean up and load the dishwasher after dinner but life happened and I didn’t.
So instead I woke up to our house looking like a frat house.
I tell ya…these girls are sweet and adorable, but they are pigs.
“I bet so and so’s house doesn’t look like this…Just another example of…”
“REALLY Devil?! Shut up! Go bother someone else…”
Clean up the mess and moving on.
Because Reagan was tired from “boy-ing” all afternoon, he wasn’t up for homework.
Being the good mom that I am, we pressed on.
Tears soon came and in an exasperated tone he said, “Mom, what the point!? We do homework, we go to school the rest of our life, we get a job and we die.”
Whoa. That’s deep for a Thursday night from a 9 year old.
Just this weekend Phoebe wrote me a little love note. It was so sweet to know she had thought of me. It was a smidge prophetic too.
I’ll share this little bit of advice from a wise little 5 year old…
You guys, life is happening.
In my life, one day a baby was born to a precious couple in our life.
In that same week a sweet friend gave her rock star mom back to Jesus.
Someone’s end is someone else’s beginning.
We can’t go through this life defeated by the day to day that we miss out on the amazing that God has given us.
Let’s not get sucked into the “we go to school, we work, and we die” rut of desperation.
If we do, we will miss out on all the fun that caused your house to look like the Phi Tau house on campus.
Christ has come to give us life! And life more abundant!
We need to start living like it!
Yes, the laundry is going to pile up and the kids are going to cry over homework, and life is going to happen.
We are more than overcomers!
We are victorious!
Let’s promise each other that we won’t let us get bogged down with the piles of whatever that make us feel like we are drowning.
Just BREATHE and tell the frat boy in your house and the enemy in your mind…
“You’re drunk…go home.”