Women are like lionesses at the gate of the home. . . . She guards that gate, and things matter to that family if they matter to her. . . . Sisters, you are each like the lioness at the gate. This means that there has to be some prioritizing. I was taught years ago that when our priorities are out of order, we lose power. If we need power and influence to carry out our mission, then our priorities have to be straight.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Day One - Kids Were Here

I love having kids.  I mean, truly love it.  I want to fill up my house with kids.  Bunches and bunches of them.

I think Shaelyn is totally in tune with how I feel on the subject, because she is constantly saying things like:

"Mom, when the next baby comes, can I hold it at the hospital?" (No, I'm not pregnant.)
"Mom, when we put another bunk bed in this room for all the babies, there won't be much room to play." (Said in an I'm-so-excited way, not in an I-will-hate-that way.)
 "When are we going to have 25 kids in our family?"  (That girl might even be more ambitious than I am!)
So when I recently came across this idea of documenting the art of having kids in your house, I wanted to jump on board.  Not because I'm an awesome photographer, or an artist, or even the world's best mom.  But because I love having kids in my house.  And I love finding Rachelle's toys randomly stashed in several  different lunch boxes, purses, and totes.  Or seeing Shaelyn write her name in "mirror writing" on every piece of paper she can find in the house (including important tax documents).  Or thinking Christian's just eaten his weight in chicken nuggets only to find his weight in chicken nuggets on his lap when the tray comes off the high chair.

I love my messy, loud, chaotic, completely disorganized, sticky, pile-filled house.  And the little people in it.  And the life that I live here.

So here's my moment today - when I realized just how expensive it is to feed a family of 5.  But more importantly, when I had a blast shopping with a heavy baby strapped to me who doesn't want to ride in anything anymore if it means I'm not holding him.  And with a 3-year-old who "protected" the groceries she wanted by putting them in the front of the cart with her, even if it meant freezing her legs on the princess yogurt she had picked out.  And the 5-year-old who blows me away with how old and mature she is on a daily basis, who calmly pointed out to me that the milk was leaking all over the place by simply saying, "I believe this milk might have a leak."  (When did she start talking like that?!?)


Not that every picture needs a narrative.  But I just didn't want to forget that hour that I spent at the store that I hate.  Because to me it was a snapshot of the life that I love living.

Cleverly written by shelley