Scrambled Womble Eggs with Diamonds

In a crumpled bed, quickly moving my rusty fingers over the keyboard as he gets ready to go to work and take with him my link to the world. How I am missing my online community. Heavy downpour outdoors, thinking the children are going to need galoshes and mackintoshes to get to school this morning, if only we had such Paddington bear-ish props. I have had a busy few days and heading into a few more, making next weeks meals so that the poor guy does not have to cook as well and be a solo parent while I am away. So I have five meals to make today, and it is Maddy's birthday tomorrow, party on Saturday. Class treats to bake and the party to cater for, all the while eyeing what clothes to pack for Tonga, and whether we have enough wrapping paper for Maddy's gifts, and working out how many sachets of cat food will be needed until I get back. It all mounts up madly, and I enjoy it, but need time to sift through and get it all done methodically. That's the crazy part, Mishal is double trouble at the moment, ignoring each demand to stop doing something, and on a mission with those tiny fingers to find every bead, crayon and lipstick she can. She refuses to be buckled in, eat her dinner, get out of the bath, have her hair brushed, endure a channel change, give something back that she took. She's done several reverse raspberries that pierce the skin with love, and has most alarmingly taken to running away, a great joke. In light of the dear little girl who ran away in NZ last week and was only found a week later, this is extremely underlined in my thoughts and each list, or recipe, or washing sorting moment is fractured with me rushing around trying to find her.
I am trying not to be defined by motherhood. I am trying to think and speak clearly but it is proving true that my lack of computer time is meaning I am a jumbled up womble. Deep breaths.
While Mishal was asleep yesterday, I worked on creating cute little plastic cups lined with spotty pink paper, filled with pretty lollies for a quick, simple eye-candy party favour for Maddy's party, geared at being gluten-free. I enjoyed using my scrapbooking scallop punch, my pegs, balloons and creating something. I left them on my desk... while on the phone an hour later, Mish climbed up onto my desk and proceeded to feast on the chocolate fish poking up out of the tops of the little cups. Deep breaths.
I am thinly spread, in my head. In that lack, I still place in God's hands, my overwhelming desire to be learning from Him. Time-poor, His inspiration has to be rich, literally nuggets that land like scattered diamonds for me to scoop up on the run. Trying to be alert and watchful to that richness is sometimes difficult when I want to glaze over with survival mode, or when I want to faze out with grief processing, or when I just want to think. But I keep making myself look. I keep singing with the music that pours into my kitchen from Rhema, I keep scribbling down notes on the back of envelopes, till receipts. I have conversations with God while driving, out loud I might add, much to the intrigue of my children.
And its so funny, God is not confined to my limited mental capacity. It confounds me how He meets me wherever I am at. But today, children are calling for help finding clothes (they are camping upstairs in the spare room while their downstairs wing is off limits having a leak fixed), and my sweetie darling is heading off, possibly needing to take this laptop with him, so I am away. Love and miss you my bloggy friends. xx Scuse my typos, no time to re-read.

Gail  – (October 15, 2009 at 10:47 AM)  

I'm feeling your scrambled womble eggs - like I've had several servings recently myself!

Missing your 1000 gifts and amazing photography gift, and praying that all will fall into place as though God Himself has put each sweet into those cups and packed your suitcases for you!

sarah  – (October 15, 2009 at 2:51 PM)  

You may feel jumbled up but this was a beautiful read. I know how hard it was for many of us this past week with Aisling always at the back of our minds, making us more watchful of our children, filtering our experience of their adventurousness through our grief.

Happy birthday to Maddy :-) I hope the party goes well.

Widge  – (October 15, 2009 at 8:47 PM)  

So there with you trying to pick up the scattered diamonds (or even spot them!). I have a Rhema flooded kitchen too :)

deb  – (October 17, 2009 at 1:10 AM)  

This was a perfect post. Life.
Hoping for moments of peace...
for you, for enough of them to dangle us along.

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