Zen and the Art of Motherhood

This weekend we started a major clean up job brought our own Flood of the Century. In between wringing out carpets and diverting newly created waterways, I was charged with salvaging the family photos.

Now I need to tell you, I love our family pictures. I'm the resident photographer at family gatherings and events and take my job seriously. Unfortunately, I'm not a big scrapbooker. Oh, who am I kidding – I’m not a scrapbooker at all. Ive tried those cutesy crops, but I can never seem to finish more than one page of any album I've started. The task is just too overwhelming for my scattered mind. All my grand plans have amounted to is a sizable collection of paper, stickers and blank sheets sitting in a pile in the basement. Actually its now a big soggy pile.

As a result, we have LOTS of prints sitting around. Some are stored in boxes, but many are not-so-neatly kept on countertops and shelves. These are the ones that were hit the hardest.

Trying to salvage what I could, I spread out all the old pictures on any table, shelf or other flat surface I could find. With years worth of shots, we had pictures everywhere. There were those of my husband and I when we were dating, my oldest as a 4 yr old fairy on Halloween and many, many pictures of the twins from birth to present. There was even a group of our Little Stinker still in the hospital.

Recently I've been feeling like my life has been one mishap after another. But looking at these images, I realized how much genuine fun was woven in -- the parties, the vacations, the goofy poses. Too bad this tends to get obscured in hindsight.

So today, I really love my cheap little camera and the diary its kept. On this day in the life of one stressed out mom, it brought a healthy dose of happy reality. Maybe its time to dust off all that scrapbooking stuff to show off all the fun we've had along the way.

It was a nice dream. A pleasant dream. A peaceful dream. The details are kind of fuzzy, but I do remember being on vacation -- I think it was the beach. Oh, I love the beach.

Then, like a tsunami hitting the shore, I was jolted out of my fantasy world by my oldest daughter.

"Mom! Mom! The dishwasher's leaking and there's water all over the kitchen."

Still in my relaxed state I tried to ignore the interruption.

"Mom! Mom! There's water everywhere. Its dripping from the basement ceiling."

That got my attention, but I was still a little slow.

"Moommm! Did you want all those photos? They're all wet."

That did it. I love those photos. I had them safely tucked in a corner of the basement so the kids wouldn't get to them. Now came panic time.

Running down the stairs my daughter turned to me and said, "By the way, did I tell you there's water squirting from the washing machine too?"

Its official. I hate my life.

Our dishwasher woes started a few days ago when the old one broke. We couldn't afford a brand new one, so we bought a new-to-us dishwasher off of Craigslist. Never one to pass up a bargain, I've been a big fan of the online marketplace. I'm now rethinking my position. The new dishwasher ran fine last night -- no leaks, no worries. Too bad the water supply never turned off. Water ran all night as we slept. No wonder I dreamed of the ocean.

As for the washing machine, we sprung for a front loader a while back. With six people in the house, it made total sense. There's just minor one problem. Our particular model has this pesky habit of eating socks and other small objects, eventually lodging them in the water pump. Every month or so, my husband is enlisted to drain the pump and rid the washer of all the odd items so we can enjoy clean clothes once again.

Flash forward to today. I've spent most of the morning on the phone trying to figure out how to rid the basement of the 6 inches or so of standing water. My husband tackled the washing machine and we've got towels everywhere soaking up the spill. All the while, I've been trying to steal away for a little nap. Maybe, just maybe, I can get back to my dream. And then I can have some peace.