May Day

Things have been dreadful around here. 

Okay, so maybe the word “dreadful” is taking it a bit too far. But, I don’t want to lie to you, things have not been fun. 

The Northeastern sector of the country, where we live, has been drenched with rain for nearly the entire month of May. I am not exaggerating. At all.

This means a lot of days inside. A lot of television watched. A lot children going crazy from cabin fever. 

I must have jinxed myself. Because I started going to the gym again. I dared to catch up tremendously on lots of house work, and even thought I might be able to manage repainting my master bedroom this summer. I did all sorts of productive things. 

Which meant that, naturally, half of the family would be wiped out with sickness over the course of the last three weeks, and I would be considering fumigation as a viable housekeeping option.  

Let me back up to the three-solid-weeks-of-germs thing.  

I have had boogers smeared across my shoulder, and in my hair by grumpy and needy children. Fevers. Wakeful nights. More fevers.

Now, I’m even infected. 

I recently put all of the medicine bottles back in the bathroom the other day. We normally keep them handy in the kitchen when we are dosing children around the clock. Decorating with ibuprofen bottles and medicine droppers is kind of the hipster thing to do. You wouldn’t understand if you’re not a parent. </sarcasm>

This is what I get for deigning to think that we were done with sickness. Or that life was calm.

I brought this on myself. 

I feel like this is the way it always goes. 

We have a few good weeks. I feel on top of things. Things are running relatively smooth. 

Then the pendulum swings back the other way… 

And handily knocks me over. 

This is the cycle of being a stay at home mother. 

You feel as though you pay dearly for those lulls in activity and stress. When things seem too easy, you come to find out that they probably are, and you are reminded of the way that life is supposed to be. Or really is? I’m not sure. 

Everyone is telling you that you’ll wish you had these days back, but truthfully, nobody wants cold and flu and allergy season with small children. We just think that we do. We love the idea of nursing babies and kids through colds with soup and crackers, love and snuggles because it seems so easy. We don’t think it’s that big of a deal.

Then we live it, and we try not to bang our head against the wall. 

See? The pendulum does a-swingeth. 

The best that I can do, as I console myself over the amount of television my children have watched and the amount of frozen meals that we have heated over the last month, is remind myself that I’m doing my best. 

It’s nothing magical. There is nothing outright soothing about reminding yourself that you are doing the best that you can do. It doesn’t magically do the dishes in the sink, or get the laundry folded, or the smushed banana out of the carpet. It doesn’t quell the fevers, doesn’t wipe the red noses. It doesn’t make that five hour stretch of sleep you had feel like eight. 

But sometimes, it does restore a bit of sanity. It helps us reset. The only thing that we can do sometimes is our best. And maybe try to tell ourselves that our children will remember us rocking them to sleep when they were feverish. Or how we laid in bed with them until they were able to fall asleep. 

I dare say, that my kids aren’t gonna remember how messy or how clean the house was on that Tuesday in May when they were four, and I were busy realizing that the place was trashed, yet again. But they do remember how I laid with them on my shoulder, with a wet rag draped across their forehead. 

They probably won’t notice the way that we moms breathe in the scent of their hair. Or how we couldn’t get over how pink their cheeks were when we were standing over them in the dark. 

Those moments are just for us. They’re our due as we try to reconcile the perpetual hurricane that is mothering. It’s the things that only we can notice, because only we can mother them. Only we can find a couple of snot-nosed, grumpy kids the stuff of poetry. Only we can sense the divine in days spent dealing with children who argue over granola bars or dumping toilet water on the floor in the bathroom. It’s a harvest that is ripe for the gathering. 

I’m off to medicate. 

Happy Tuesday. 



Paint colors.

That’s what has had me strung out for nearly a week. Paint colors.

That’s pretty sad, actually. #firstworldproblems

I was asking my husband last night why it seems that women are at times so aesthetically challenged at times that they can manage to get so hung up on the colors of the wall. He looked at me dead on and said that he didn’t have the foggiest idea. I believed him. He has been passively listening to me talk through the process of choosing paint colors. Listening to me rant about which ones intimidate me. Which ones don’t sit right with me. Which ones seem too boring and bland.

Poor guy. 

It’s spring here. Oh thank the heavens above, it’s spring. Which has been wonderful. The sun has been out a lot more as of late. Which is good, since sun > rain. The temperatures are remaining pretty steady in the mid 60’s. I’m not sure what the barometric pressure is up to, but I think that you get the idea that basically, it’s spring time up in here and we are loving it. We have been keeping busy with having lunch outside. Going to t-ball practice up the road. Visiting the park. Playing in the yard. It’s been a good, good thing.

Except for the fact that I already have houseflies….and that I had to kill an ant in my kitchen last week…and three mosquitos that landed on me in the yard…and found a tick on me the other morning.

That’s the trick. When the leaves start waking up so do all of the little annoyances that this wonderful season can muster. I’m still not going back to January, and you can’t make me.

We have done a tiny bit of spring cleaning so far. Don’t get too excited for me yet, we still have a lot more to do. If you didn’t already realize, we have some painting to do. The kitchen and our dining room to be precise. On top of sorting through the kid’s clothing and getting rid of what doesn’t fit anymore. And just a good scrubbing for the house in general.

Am I going to get off of here and go work on any of that?


You already knew that, didn’t you?

Jerry is nearly done his first year of school, which is ridiculous. I’m so proud of him. He has done so well and seems to have thoroughly enjoyed it. Jerry and Clara will celebrate their birthdays in a little over two month’s time. I will have a 5-year-old and a 3-year-old on my hands before July comes. I don’t know how that happened.

Jerry was just asking me the other day if baby carrots came from mommy carrots. Clara likes to take books to bed to snuggle with. How is it not always going to be like this???

Today, Clara decided that she didn’t want her third birthday to come. “It’s too big for me,” she said. And I kind of agree. But how amazing it is to watch them grow. To go from holding them, to holding their hands to starting to let go because they can do. Three does seem too big for her, but I told her that she had to keep going. As much as it wrenches me on the inside, they both do, they have to keep going.

You just won’t catch me saying that very often. Don’t want to encourage this kind of stuff, now do we?

Beans and Carrots

The weather was gorgeous this week. I’m biting my tongue to avoid complaining about the fact that there were a few days this week that felt more summer-esque than like springtime. Because what are you gonna do? You can’t change the weather. And there is no way that I want to revisit 40 degree days. Because, no thanks!

It’s a beautiful Saturday here in Maryland. We have spent most of the day outdoors because….(drumroll)…

Rob and I started a garden!


It’s not quite done at this point, and hopefully when it is I’ll share more pictures with you. Yay for what will hopefully be a summer filled with veggies grown by team LeCompte. Here is hoping!

I’m actually really looking forward to this. I’m a little awestruck by the fact that we are finally doing this – after many springs of talking about gardening we are putting our hard work and garden tools where our mouths are. It may sound like just tomatoes and carrots to you, especially if you have already proven yourself to have a green thumb, but I feel for some reason that if this garden turns out, it’s gonna be eye-opening for me!


In awe of daddy, doing the tilling.

Life is built around convenience now a days. This is something that I welcome, just so you don’t misunderstand me. But I feel sometimes like there is so much that we miss out on by taking the easy way and relying on all that we do throughout our day-to-day lives. Don’t get me wrong – we are still gardening the easy way, our rented tiller and store-bought seeds are proof enough of that. I am joyfully expecting to be filled with excitement when I see our seedlings break through the earth. Somehow I feel like when that happens that I’m going to realize what it’s all about and that I will see in some small way just what the earth was made for.


On a side note, I caught sight of Rob out the window…


…and decided to sing his praises. I just have to say how awesome my hubby is. Rob did the tilling this morning and is taking on the harder tasks of our gardening adventure. This isn’t surprising, it is what he has always done. His hands are gifted. He can woodwork, he can build and tear down. He can fix, he can protect his family and now it’s probably safe to say that he can grow.

So as I was watching him,


…I just had to thank God for those hands that are always giving, always providing and always willing.

Don’t know how I came to be so lucky.

Happy Saturday!!!