The Hillarious and Horrible Day

I should be writing my Christmas letter.  Obviously I'm not, and there should be a very good reason.  How about: yesterday was too horrible and too hilarious not to write about first; or, I'm not really sure if I even know how to write any more; or the scent of throw-up lingers thoughout the house and part of my brain can't function unless it is eliminated; or JJ and Davey are both sleeping at the same time, Aaron is at a friend's house, it's the middle of the day and I can't stop thinking about the amazing things can do by myself with my hour (or so) of free time!  

And since I don't have a candied/carmeled apple on hand to sit in the corner and eat all by myself...I decided to cozy up on the couch and clear my head instead.

Christmas is upon us at the Frandsen household.  I stayed up until about 4am the other night holiday-ifying the house so we could get in the spirit.  I even wrote a note from "Elfie Elfie" (JJ's name for the s/he elf that sits on our shelf) that discussed the real meaning of Christmas, and that s/he would surely be watching to see if the Frandsens remembered Jesus in their actions.

You know what Aaron said (with a sly smile on his face), "Mom...that's your writing, I know it!"  Oh boy. :)  At least he knows I'm always watching him.

The boys were enchanted by the Christmas tree and decorations.  And, quite frankly, so am I.  We have so many sweet ornaments from Christmases past.  I love looking at the tree and being reminded of high school Jonny and Mel, our wedding, or kids' first Christmases, etc.  And I love watching the boys pick off the ornamnets, admire them, play with them--the nutcracker dolls are especailly a big hit...carring on conversations about football and eating various things. These boys make me so happy.

Two days ago SLC's temperature dropped below freezing and the snow began falling.  JJ and I spent the day shoveling our driveways and the driveways of a few older neighbors.  Three different times we were out clearing the drive...pointless to shovel during a snowstorm?  Maybe.  But at least the piles are more managable when the storm stops.  

All the shoveling was in preparation for our first swim lesson.  YES.  that's right.  I signed my boys up for swim lessons in December. I did it because I knew they would LOVE it.  Especially my little fish Aaron. I didn't quite anticipate how much work it would be to lug my three boys, plus their snow gear, plus their swim gear all the way to the pool and back at 5:00 every Tuesday and Thursday.  And when it snowed and I sent Jonny to work with  my car (the better snow equipped vehicle of our two, by far) I knew that I would have to make it out of our driveway that evening with his little red car that drives on snow like it's wearing ice skates.  It's not the best.

Tuesday we made it great.  Yesterday was more of a challenge.  All day long the world was out to get me. Nevertheless, I felt like I was ready for the blow-by-blow. I locked myself out of my house, but climbed in thorugh the window (over a sink full of dirty dishes) to remedy the situation.  Pow! And I made it through my whole shopping list at two different stores before Aaron came home. Shabam! Then I proceeded to put everything away (which takes about 45 mintues) while the melting snow from the trees fell upon my head.  I growled and laughed. We got through lunch, practice, made my favorite lasagna and salad for a few families, and then loaded up the crew to deliver the dinners before swim class. (we were waiting to eat until Jonny got home) Phew! (I thought).  And then JJ said he "spit up" on the way to the pool. Wasn't quite sure what that meant until we were in the pool and sure enough, he began to barf. Luckily I saw it on his face and got him out of the water before all the patroms were swimming with JJ's lunch floaties. Poor J. He was slightly green and we all had to evacuate immediately to aviod further disaster.  It was a circus making our way to the dressing room with all of our winter gear, towels, barf-covered scrubs (that I was wearing). 

And there I sat in the dressing room trying to make my JJ comfortable while Aaron yelled at me from the shower (no cochlears), nursing Davey who is--yes, I believe he was--giggling at me while Jonny reminds me on the phone that he isn't going to be home for dinner.  For a split second I wondered if I should just sit in that dressing room until Jonny was done wiht his work dinner and could come rescue us all.  And then I remembered I'm stronger than that.  

I managed to get Aaron out of the shower and pack up our crew, we made it to the parking lot, where JJ again emptied his stomach.  At least it wasn't in the hallway. We got home without an incident, made JJ a sick bed in the living room and made and Aaron one on the couch beside him.  I knew it would be a long night.  And then Aaron said, "Mom, make me some dinner!"  That's when I quietly said, "I'm doing my best, Aaron." And I started to cry.  He started to cry too...probably soaking in some of the stress, poor kid.  We hugged and agreed that it was a crazy weird day, and then we ate homemade lasagna and garlic bread together.  Bonus: he actually ate the lasagna.

It was a hilariously horrible day.  But really, as I conqured each conquest I felt good.  Through it all I felt a simple assurance that I am good at what I do, and most importantly--the truth that what I am doing is good. 

This is my life and it is so sweet.  It's not always fun, and I often find myself on the verge of tears in a fit of frustration over silly things on a day like today when my son innocently demands "Mom, make me some dinner!"  But I see them doing their best to figure out this thing we call life and I'm inspired.  I'm motivated.  And I love them so very much.