Dream vs. Reality

I've recently begun a Bible study and church leadership seminar that both involve plenty of reading. Considering the last time I completed a book was in 2010 (and I'm actually guessing there, but I know it was before we had kids), I'm a little concerned about pulling this off. My night stand is littered with books only three chapters gone. I have the best of intentions, but I find myself thinking, "If only I had some time in the mornings before the kids get up! I would LOVE to read for a half hour, or even fifteen minutes, uninterrupted!" Completing Bible study homework isn't even probably what most people consider a "leisure activity", but it sounds positively dreamy to me.

Moms, can you relate?

I had the thought of brainstorming a Dream vs. Reality daily schedule. Here goes nothing...

Dream:

Wake up at 7:00 a.m. and enjoy coffee, Bible reading, and half an hour of pleasure reading or Bible study reading/journaling. Start cooking breakfast and cheerfully greet children as they come downstairs around 7:30.

Reality:

Be awakened around 7:25 by my selfless husband who makes my coffee before he showers. Recall soothing post-vaccination toddler at 2:00 a.m. and changing pee-pee sheets at 4:30 a.m. Summon all available resources (meager at best) to roll out of bed and stumble toward the coffee. Read select Bible passages while negotiating with preschooler to go back upstairs until 7:45. Eventually give in and allow him to sit on my lap while I try to pray for the day.

Dream:

Shower in the morning and get dressed, so as to feel ready for anything throughout the day.

Reality:

Complete bare minimum personal hygiene activities while foot-barricading the toddler away from bathroom drawers and cabinets. Juggle hair straightener and toilet lid for toddler's safety. Alternatively, apply one makeup product at a time during brief dashes up and down the stairs while kids are eating breakfast. Mess up foundation because of blood-curdling shriek from the kitchen. Forget whether eye makeup has been applied to both eyes. Wonder whether deodorant was involved. Pick up feminine products and return to cabinet under sink, discard those half-eaten by toddler.

Dream: 

Blog for an hour in the afternoon to process thoughts, share updates, and relate funny anecdotes.

Reality:

Duel with handsy toddler whose mission in life is to see the Caps Lock light permanently green. Type two words, locate mouse pointer after said toddler gropes the track pad, delete type that somehow appeared two paragraphs up. Pause writing to block stairs, close bathroom door, and provide a handful of toys for toddler. Referee sibling squabble. Return to laptop and pretend not to notice toddler wiping nose with basket full of clean cloth napkins. Save blog draft and vow to finish it this evening after the kids go down.

Dream:

Blanch, chop, process the heap of tomatoes that our garden has been producing in abundance. Perhaps cook and can some sauce.

Reality:

Eat raw tomatoes with ranch every night at dinner, or tomato/mozzarella/basil salad when I have "extra" time, and feel guilty for throwing or giving away excess tomatoes. Ditto squash, peppers, cucumbers.

Dream:

Enjoy dinner with family while sharing "highs" and "lows" from the day. Help children tell Daddy what they learned in homeschool, review Bible verse and catechism question.

Reality:

Greet husband with toddler wrapped around leg, screaming maniacally (the toddler, not me) despite being well-fed throughout the day and taking a two hour nap (again, the toddler, not me). Notice magnetic letters strewn across kitchen floor and possibly in the pasta pot. Attempt to ask husband how his day was, but be unable to hear his response due to the chaos. At dinner, exchange sympathetic looks with spouse while dodging the food cannon that is the one-year-old. Cajole one child into eating at least three bites of favorite food, while the other child eats all of his food and starts in on my plate. Forget anything that happened earlier in the day, but feel sure that it involved running a marathon while being chased by hungry lions and listening to death metal.

Dream:

After kids' bedtime, catch up with husband, and spend the evening quietly reading or working on a hobby project such as knitting, crafting, maybe lesson planning.

Reality:

Collapse on the couch to decide whether to watch TV or movie. Possibly eat feelings, if there is ice cream or chips in the house. Despite relaxing potential of watching TV on the couch, actually fold laundry and exercise because this is the one time of day when said activities don't involve folding everything three times and/or becoming a human jungle gym/yoga mat. Interrupt folding and exercising to discipline children who have emerged from their room believing they require food, water, and company.

These are about all the contrasts I have time to brainstorm right now, due to the unbelievable din that is my children pushing chairs around the table, playing on a "musical instrument" and shouting imaginary play instructions at each other. Oh and somebody just peed on the back deck. Don't hold your breath that I'm about to proofread, either.

Does this sound like complaining? It's just my reality. Mamas, I'm sure you feel me. My kids are responsible for the highest highs and lowest lows throughout my day. I wouldn't trade homeschooling for the world. I get to witness my kids learning all the things - my son has been reading his first books, and I was there! My daughter is learning phonics rules, and I see the pleasure and pride (and sometimes relief) on her face when she finishes a lesson. We're getting through. The opportunities for grace ABOUND, let me tell you. God is doing things in me that are difficult, painful, and simply astounding. Sometimes I don't know how I'm going to keep doing it, but I know that I will, by God's grace, put one foot in front of the other. And other times I feel like I am completely nailing it. Or at least, you know, faking it convincingly.

What do you fantasize about doing with your time, mamas? Something grand, or just experiencing five minutes without someone shouting your name? Let us pause now and then to thank God for the fullness of these blessings, and the work He is doing in our hearts through them. Sanctification, much?