Perfectly Unfinished

Wouldn't you know the one day a friend unexpectedly stops by my house, needing to use the bathroom, is the Day of Unfinished Projects? Like the freshly stain-treated pile of baby clothes on the bathroom counter that didn't make it to the laundry yet. Or the toilet that I was going to scrub, but then Evan woke up. Or the mantle still holding my hubby's piles of things that he deposits there (which I periodically gather and lovingly give back to him). Or the kitchen table strewn with art projects and, yes, a few Easter eggs. Even just two doors closed (the computer room and master bedroom) would have made me feel a bit better. But no, today all the secrets were out; perfection was no where to be seen. My friend caught me right in the midst of my life. Sigh! I wish it were prettier!

Why is it that we moms/ladies feel we have to clean up, make everything just right, before we can have each other over? Aren't we just unnecessarily burdening ourselves and each other instead of just relaxing and enjoying each other's company more freely? Perhaps it's just me and my perfectionistic self that feels this way. As another friend tells me, "If someone's coming over to look at my house, then they have no business coming." She says that, though, with her one school-age child, living in their perfectly cleaned, organized, and decorated house. Things are different in my world. I've discovered that having three kids is one of God's ways of breaking me of my desire for perfection. I'm just not quite there yet...

Scavenger Walks

The weather has been beautiful lately - 70s and 80s, sunshine, nice breeze - and the kids and I have started a new routine of going for walks in the afternoons to explore and search for critters. Anna and Will each bring a Scavenger Walk list, created by myself, with pictures and names of the items we need to look for... bird, car, snake, flower, etc. Then we head off to one or more of the drainage ditches and ponds in our neighborhood to see what we can see. At the same time, we are a sight to behold, I am sure, as I push Evan in the umbrella stroller, Anna pushes her baby doll in her little stroller, and Will, not to be outdone, pushes his orange wheelbarrow through the streets of our neighborhood, stopping periodically to mark something off the lists. We have seen bullfrogs, minnows, ducklings, turtles, two water snakes, and maybe even a small alligator (that one is debatable). Anna and Will love finding these critters; Evan rides contentedly; and I relish the mild weather, fully aware of the oppressive heat just around the corner that will chase me to the refuge of air conditioning.

Cousins

Last week the kids were out of school for spring break, and we spent lots of time at my in-laws' house, especially since Heidi was in town with most of her family. Jon's parents have 20 grandkids, and we had 15 in town last week. Anna and Will love spending time with their cousins, who range in age all the way up to grad school - my three are the youngest. But even the older cousins tend to be gracious to my little ones, taking time to play or chat or include them in whatever is going on. For this I am most grateful.

There is something special about the bond among cousins growing up, which perhaps could be said of the bond of family in general. I experienced the same thing as a child, enjoying my playmates and the sense of "we" (as in "our family"). The great thing is that now, though separated by years and miles, there's still that special connection with my cousins. I'm happy to watch my kids building that same foundation, unknowingly, through time spent with their cousins.