It's 5:30 pm the kids are arguing for what feels like the millionth time in the last two hours. Sitting at the supper table, or in their case doing everything but actually sitting. Most of the food that should be going into their mouths was now on the floor. My clothes that started out clean covered in evidence of the day's events, hair now all over the place, and my mascara worn off and smudged.
My hopes of a civilized meal as a family are going down the toilet real fast. We have roughly 6 weeks left of having time together in the evenings before spring harvest, and then they will be few and far between.
My husband reaches over grabs the strings of my hoodie and pulls them tight so my head is no longer visible at all. Immediately all three kids start giggling uncontrollably. In a moment when I felt like I really just needed a few minutes to pull myself together alone, I knew I wouldn't want it any other way. The frustration I was feeling had now given way to laughter.
They say the more kids the more mouths to feed, but it is so much more. It means more arguments to settle, more tears to dry, more gray hairs, and a lot more falling on your knees begging God for guidance in how to shape these little hearts and minds. However, no matter the challenges the reward of those moments like hearing a child's giggle are so worth it!
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