The Family Returns

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Thankfully, I am blessed to have a husband who not only understands my need for R&R, but is willing to accompany me to some wonderful place that is seems God always provides just before I jump off the edge. One of these occasions happened immediately after Memorial Day following a visit from our children. The family group consisted of four of our five sons, three wives (one pregnant), a 22-month old grandson, an 18-month-old granddaughter, a 3-week-old newborn granddaughter, and three dogs (much to the consternation of our dominant male cat).

When boys come home, they hardly ever come alone, regardless of their ages. They generally will have friends, girlfriend, or wife. They also bring with them various accoutrements, all pertaining to some form of activity. From the moment they arrive the foyer of our house is practically impassable because of the collection of guns, fishing rods, boots, cameras, Frisbees, footballs, the latest exercise-related paraphernalia, and camouflage bags containing mysterious items that I have yet to identify. The girls come with certain equipment as well, now mostly pertaining to childrearing, i.e., diapers and wipes (three different sizes), baby appropriate food (organic), and the quintessential collection of favorite toys for each child. Soon the counters in the kitchen and laundry room disappear under the assortment of diaper changing stations, sippy cups, bottles, and breast pump equipment. My kitchen becomes a lab for preparing toddler meals and sanitizing nursing items.

I have found that the challenges of having our grown-up family at home are things that nobody prepared me for. It was a big adjustment when I had our own children, and found myself being a mother. At the same time I was also a daughter and a daughter-in-law. In the course of a few fast years, my role included being a mother-in-law, and now a grandmother…as well as a wife. I never realized how difficult it could be to juggle all those titles at once. I have the type of temperament that wants everyone around me to be happy, and if I perceive they aren’t, it somehow becomes my responsibility. Sometimes I’d like to post signs in my kitchen that say things like “Kitchen closed because of illness; I’m tired of cooking!” but somehow I can’t bring myself to be that cold. Besides, my family would be appalled to think that their servile mother could be guilty of such attitudes!

Anyway, the challenges of trying to make sure everyone is having a good time and that all the needs are being met sometimes gets to me. For instance, I’ve discovered that buying groceries for an anticipated visit from the children can be daunting. Trying to remember everybody’s favorite cereal, who’s eating sugar and who’s using a substitute, who need fiber and who doesn’t (I mean… who doesn’t?), who wants red meat and who likes fish, what likes what kind of snacks, what flavor/brand of ice cream, bread, or dog food are acceptable, and where in heaven’s name to find plain whole-milk yogurt for the toddlers in a small town like ours can wring me out! Now that there are only my easy-to-please husband and me at home alone, we can easily be satisfied with a simple salad or a bowl of cereal, or our frequent spur-of-the moment meals in town, but when we have an army to feed, that gets a little pricey! Don’t get me wrong; our family members are more than happy to cooperate and bring/cook/or do anything I ask to help. I just can’t remember that it isn’t all up to me! That’s why I have to brace myself against having a meltdown in the middle of Winn-Dixie and having to explain to my husband why it took two hours to finish shopping.

I’ve also found that I need to feel organized when they walk in the door. Don’t ask why it makes me feel better to know that my sweat pants are folded in the drawer, the kitchen knives are all sharpened, and the grass cut before they come, but that makes a difference. It also helps to know that the floor is vacuumed, mopped, and free of small objects for the little explorers, and that the sheets are all clean and the bathtubs sanitary. I’m much more relaxed to know that I don’t have to run interference for them when they come in.

The biggest challenge of all, however, is monitoring everybody’s emotional health. I thought that once the boys became grown men, they would have worked out their differences and accepted one another as the wonderful individuals that they are, leaving behind the irritations and temperament traits that can cause clashes. I was wrong. Now the best I can pray for is that will deal with issues in a mature way that reflects their Christian character and privately enough that I don’t have to be drawn in to the conflict. For some reason, it is sometimes hard for me to realize that I don’t need to be the referee, although they have tried to instill that in my head all their lives. Now that there are wives to consider, things can get even more complicated, not because the girls are difficult, but because, like me, they hate to see any disagreement among the brothers. I also am sensitive to the fact that we still have two bachelors within the family, and I don’t want them to feel less validated because some of the brothers have wives and children.

So when the last of the tail lights disappear down the driveway, I find myself physically and emotionally depleted. It’s time then to recognize that what I need is a long bubble bath, a good night’s sleep, and some time with the earthly father who is responsible for all this, as well as the heavenly Father whose plan it was from the beginning.