Endurance is not my end goal.

I'm having a bit of a rough morning this morning. I should be in Sunday School right now, but with both the girls still running fevers, I'm not risking spreading our crud all over the county.

When I got up this morning, I flipped on the television while I sat in the floor & changed Bitsy's diaper & took her temperature (for the record it was 100.3). Now I do not normally watch T.V. preachers. I think the mid 80's televangelist mess set me off them forever. But I've seen Joel Osteen interviewed on The Today show and can remember thinking I may like this guy. To be honest, I never went any further than that thought. I know next to nothing about this man, but he was on and something he said in that moment before I flipped the channels struck me. To paraphrase, he said: we need to live life, not just endure it.

The question of living versus enduring didn't even give me pause this morning. I've been enduring life for quite a while now. It's not a pleasant place to be. I was talking to Art this week about motherhood & just how difficult it is. I honestly do not know how she does what she does everyday. There are days she doesn't see her children. She leaves for work before they wake up. She works two jobs and goes to class, makes a run to the grocery, and comes home to find them all ready in bed. The days she's with them, their lives are so busy, they have little time to simply be together. She has said it kills her to have no time to do "fun" things with them and the days when she could are normally spent dealing with issues that have come up in the in between times.

The day we were talking I confessed I feel like I spend all my time telling them to be quiet or go play in their rooms. I've been perusing Mom I'm Bored & realized I spend little time playing with my kids as a whole. I spend a lot of time cleaning, mediating, wrangling, washing, chasing, soothing, disciplining, planning, arguing, nursing, doctoring, mothering. I spend little time playing with anyone except Bitsy (who demands playing on a regular basis). When did I become "That Mom"? The one who plops her kids down in front of the TV so she can get a moment's peace and ends up letting them watch SpongeBob for 3 hours? Why is it so hard to let them drag out all their art supplies & while away the afternoon? What's keeping me from helping them build a fort out of couch cushions? Is it the mess? Is it really that daunting of a task to pick up after them....again?

On top of that, I've been skimming through a few blogs every now & again that show just how fleeting life with these precious beings is. When I'm at my wits end and ready to throw in the towel, Rachel is wishing for just one more day with her Hannah.

Today I was reading about Audrey Caroline & her family. Her Mama, Angie, writes with amazing clarity & grace. While I've only scratched the surface of their story, it brought so many memories flooding back to me. If you go back to the beginning of her story, Angie describes her life changing ultra-sound. The moment they found out their Audrey would not be around to learn to crawl, to catch the bus to kindergarten, to pick out her first prom dress, to walk down the aisle on her daddy's arm. While reading her story, I was slammed back into the room where I had my 28 week ultrasound with B.B.

It was only a precaution. #1 Son had kidney problems (another moment in another story when I wanted to crumple up on MIL's kitchen floor). They were just checking to be sure B.B.'s kidneys were fine. Husband stayed here with QM to watch the kids & be sure he wasn't late for work. Daddy went with me.

The tech checked B.B.'s kidneys & moved on to take other measurements. I knew from experience there was a little fluid there, but not enough to raise a red flag. When the tech got to B.B.'s heart, she lingered there. She checked & rechecked. She measured. She took pictures. She contrasted the images checking blood flow. And I knew. I remember fighting back tears & wishing Husband was there with me. When the doctor came in and did the same thing it took everything I had in me to lay there quietly & not shout, "Just tell me what you're seeing! Quit looking at his heart & measuring his legs & talk to me!!" When the words "Downs Syndrome" came out of her mouth, everything else stopped. I'm so thankful Daddy was there or I'd have never made it through the next 30 minutes.

Why were we blessed? Why do we have four healthy children when some have lost babies or cannot have them at all? Why did we go through the terror of two health scares in our pregnancies only to have it all be just fine in the end? Would I rather have had bad outcomes? Not in a million years. Are we in the clear, never to have to walk the road Rachel & Angie are walking? I don't know. It's a question I'd rather not ask. What am I doing with these four little lives entrusted to me? Am I cherishing them? Am I loving them fully? Am I helping them to live life or am I teaching them to endure it? When my babies are parents will they tell their babies about the wonderful things their father & I did with them and taught them, or will they, like their dad, have few stories to share? Will they see that they are loved or will they only have to accept it with blind faith? Do we take all this for granted?

In the past I have resolved to revel in my pregnancy. I have resolved to make no resolutions, but only to do my best for that moment, that day, that week. Today I resolve to live life and not only endure it and to teach the FarmHands to do the same....just as soon as they're all well. I also resolve to quit gliding through on Auto Pilot. I need to live life for myself & not only for my children. I need to embrace what is happening around me instead of fighting it. This chaos is my life. It won't change. I chose it. When you choose to have four children, choose to live in the country, choose to stay home with them, you choose a certain amount of noise & insanity. I need to embrace it. To live it. To develop (as Art's Syd would say) a lust for life.

I thank the Lord for our blessings. I thank Him for the trials that have made us who we are. And I thank Him for opening my eyes to the mistakes we are making in time to remedy them.