Blessings In Disguise

I was never able to publish this piece, but thought it might bring a chuckle, nonethelss. Hard to believe I've had four more kids since I wrote this. It is good to go back and remember.


I had a rare and unusual experience last week: all five of my children gobbled down dinner (chicken and dumplings was the strategy, in case you’re wondering) and four of them even asked for seconds! Then (and this is the clincher) I heard echoes of “Great dinner, Mom!” It was truly a red letter dining experience. Now, usually, when attempting a home made meal, I receive moans and groans from at least half the crowd. But let me open a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese and I’m an instant hero. Life with kids. Unpredictable, isn’t it? And with such a variety at my house, every moment brings something to make me laugh...or cry.

Just the other day I was having a proud moment (for a moment) as my eldest three were busy doing their chores. Matching socks, endless socks, cleaning mirrors, folding towels. I was proud of those hard workers. Then six-year-old Matthew piped up. “Mom,” he said innocently, “if you would do some chores, too, the house would stay a lot cleaner.” Where has this kid been?

Eleven-year-old Tiger (a nick name, of course) spotted a pair of his socks in the garbage while he was taking out the trash. “Don’t throw away those socks!” he said vehemently as he held up some once white socks with colossal holes both in the heels and the toes. “Those are great socks! They have A/C!” As long as it’s his job to take out the garbage, I have to be more careful about what I leave in there.

Then there’s Ben, who at three is not quite out of his (wonderful) terrible two’s yet. And right behind him little curly, red-headed Mary Katherine, who at one (God bless her) has not quite reached her terrible two’s. But I know they’re coming.

But in between the dinners and the diapers and the eternal terrible two’s are those moments that capture a mother’s heart. The marriage proposals I’ve received from my sons, for instance, or having coffee with Bethany, who at age nine adores the stuff as much as I do. (Don’t worry, our coffee’s together are rare).

It’s these moments, though, that remind me that the greatest blessings I’ll ever know in this life are disguised behind those finicky, wrinkled up noses seated each night around my dinner table.