I’m canning potatoes. Outside my five and six-year-old are playing a hybrid game of Heartland and transformers. It doesn’t make sense. Five months into a global pandemic, nothing at all makes sense. After abruptly ending in the middle of March, … Continue reading
These days feel like an endless episode of Nailed It. We’re in the midst of a global pandemic. 57 days of self isolation so far. Here’s what I feel like I’m supposed to be creating: a harmonious home life, sufficient … Continue reading
It’s a little late for Christmas stories but I’m going to tell one none the less. It’s not so much about Christmas but something that transpired around that festivity. Our first Christmas on Wolfe Island, 2017, my mom came … Continue reading
The longer this child lives with me in our current state, the more likely she is to leave. It’s a defeating reality. Prior to moving to Wolfe Island, two years ago, I stopped fostering. With four children adopted from the … Continue reading
As a single mom of five kids with a variety of needs, most of my time is spent putting out fires so I can get things done. Those monotonous things like laundry, dishes, school lunches, and what not. Seems like someone always needs something which makes accomplishing anything almost impossible.
Last night was no exception. I bought a ton of plants for the garden I’m attempting. It looked like rain, so I really wanted to get them planted.
Solving the problem of what to do with the attention seeking 11yr old, I left her inside to do dishes and sweep the floor.
On the deck, the 9mth old baby was put in her new Jolly Jumper. 9yr old Athena was skipping on the driveway. With pencil and paper, 5yr old Adley pretended to write notes about his observations of the garage. 4yr old Branch rode his tricycle.
Knowing it wouldn’t be long before someone needed something, I frantically began planting.
It started to mist slightly. Branch needed his raincoat. Adley suddenly realized he needed a coat as well. Baby was fussing since no one was within arm’s reach. She hates to be alone. Branch was worried she’d get wet under the canopy. He worried he’d get wet. A lengthy conversation ensued that we’ve had countless times.
“The water won’t hurt you.”
“It does hurt!!!!”
11yr old Raine stepped out to ask if she in fact had to wash all the supper dishes or if some were exempt. I kept on planting – not with the leisure or enjoyment I’ve known in other phases of my life. I kept on because there aren’t enough hours in the day.
Suddenly the mist turned into a torrential downpour. I prepare to abandon my task. Thunder and lighting silence all the children. Raine, having completed her chores joins the baby on the deck.
The eco friendly pots my herbs are in begin disintegrating in the deluge. Still, I resign myself to the fact that we must go in. If Branch couldn’t cope with a sprinkle, I suspect it won’t be long before he’s hysterical over this.
Only he isn’t. “The water doesn’t hurt me!!” he realizes, tossing off this raincoat and running down the driveway with Athena. She’s laughing. He joins in. Adley and Raine come trailing after them. The baby, dry under the canopy, lets out a squeal of delight. The lightning flashes. The thunder rolls. The rain pours down. I plant the herbs. The baby jumps. Together the children run and laugh. It’s a perfectly unexpected moment of collective joy.
There aren’t many of these. I breath it in. For an unprecedented 10mins, no one needs me. My imagination takes flight, thinking of what this work in progress will become – my garden, my family.
When I’ve done all I must, we head inside.
The rain stops. A rainbow graces the bright blue sky. It was a beautiful, picture perfect moment in a life that isn’t always so.