The cold from the laminate floor seeped through my jeans. From the room below me the sounds of my children's voices drifted up. At this moment the sounds were happy and joyful. I noticed that I wore the same T-shirt I had slept in. What else have I forgotten to do? Reaching up to my hair I could tell by the knots that it had not been combed.
Why do the children shine with perfection when in public? Why is it when they are out, they protect each other? What can I do to change their behavior at home? If it doesn't change I'll not be responsible for my reaction.
The companionable voices drifting upstairs turned into angry voices sounding like a lynch mob. The tongues that said I love you were lashing out words of filth and disgust, declaring hatred for their fellow siblings with promises of annihilation.
Why did I choose to be a home school mom? I could be out in the real world.
The house shook on the foundation with the force of a slamming door. I felt the vibration of every foot stomping up the stairs.
How long will it take for them to find me?
The bathroom door jumped on the hinges with each pound of a little fist, "Mom, they are not being fair. They won't let me play."
A second voice piped in, "Mom, when you get done in there will you feed me? I'm starving."
Waiting for act two I counted to five. As if on cue four voices cried out in a roar of noisy confusion.
"Mom, are you in there?"
"Mom, you are starving me to death."
"Mom, tell him to stop it."
"Mom, open the door."
Before the storm blew itself into a full typhoon I called out in a false British voice, "Sorry dears, your mother has stepped out for a moment. She mentioned needing peace and quiet. I think she went to the store to find it."
"No, dear, she slipped down the shower drain. I will keep an ear on you while she is away."
"Mom, we know it is you."
By now my grumpy mood has disappeared and I am holding back a laugh.
"Hey lady, could you please feed us? I'm starving."
I feel like I have climbed up and down mountains all day.
The children and I were on top of the mountain when we had great success on fellowshipping, and accomplishing school. The valleys were when they refused to do school, and loathed everyone in the house.
By dinner time I had my fill of children arguments. I was looking forward with much eagerness to the children's bedtime for I needed some alone time. After a long debate about the qualities of doing household chores, the tasks were finished with little complaint. I readily agreed to computer time and TV watching.
Pouring a cup of sweet tea I headed to my room. These kids don't deserve to be on the electronics tonight, but if I hear another quarrel I am going to explode. What is happening to this family? We used to love being together and now we can't stand being in the same room.
As I sat pondering the ways to regain my balance and reunite this family God already a plan set into motion. Gray storm clouds rolled overhead. A streak of lighting jumped from a cloud headed for the earth, and the earth reached out to greet it. The colliding energy left a vacuum and the air rushing back into the trench let out a roar and a crash that rattled the windows. Within seconds my room was filled with nervous children. Lighting and thunder were doing a mambo around the house.
Two lighting strikes close, enough you could feel the electricity in the air, then utter darkness. As if on cue four voices cried out. Their voices gave me comfort.
"Holy macaroni, it is dark in here."
"We will be fine. Mom is here."
"I will find the flashlight."
"Do we still get a snack?"
In the living room I gathered children and candles, where we spent an hour laughing, telling stories, and reconnecting. Just as sudden as the power had left us, it joined us once again.
As if on cue four voices moaned in disappointment. Thinking it must be way past bed time I did what I felt was most important. I reached up and turned out the light.
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