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Plans Plans Plans

When I was 14 years old, I had my whole life planned out.

I knew where I was going to go for college, what my major would be, and when I would graduate.

I planned to have a large family with my kids close together because I knew pregnancy would be so easy for me. I loved growing up in my big family where we were all so close in age so it only made sense. I even had a guy in mind.

I would be the best mom ever because I would have boundless energy and would play with them all the time. We would cook, and clean, and make crafts together too. I would always be patient and never get mad.

I knew I would be the perfect wife. The kind of wife that would "wow" her husband everyday for the rest of eternity. I would maintain my clean house and cook yummy meals for my family every day, all with my hair and make-up perfectly done.

But a lot can happen in 12 years.

I did indeed go the college I wanted but did not major in my originally planned occupation, nor did I finish anywhere near when I had planned.

I met my husband after I had sworn off men for all eternity.

After nine solid months of pure torture, misery, and nausea, I couldn't understand why girls talked about pregnancy like it was a good thing. I was pretty sure I would never have another one. I have since forgotten what having boundless energy means. Cook, clean, and make crafts together? Hahahaha... ha... ha. Too often I opt for the easy road and do it all myself instead of taking the time to let my kids join in, because it's easier.

I'm lucky my husband hasn't left me by now, as my mood tends to change depending on the weather and/or how long I got to stay in my hot shower. (Of course, I blame all of that on the pregnancies.)

Cleaning gets so very, very old and I can't keep up with it all anyway. I do try to cook but sometimes pancakes for all three meals of the day are in order. I confess I do do my hair and make-up most days but that is simply done for my own sanity's sake and not with the intention of impressing anyone because half the time I don't even leave the house.

I still plan. I plan how my life will be tomorrow, and the next month, and the next year. But my plans never, ever seem to work out the way I planned them too. I can't even seem to make it through the first hour of my planned morning because someone will have decided to wake up earlier than usual, cranky of course, and mess it all up.

Everyday I plan to be better with my kids, with my house, with my art, with my husband. But I still have to lock myself in my bedroom once in a while to get a grip on myself before braving the four screaming voices that come seeping through the door.

The Cheerios still crunch under my feet as I walk through the kitchen, and sometimes the clean laundry sits in a pile on the floor. I still have half-done drawings and half completed books. And I still struggle to understand how my husband managed to get here from Mars or why I get all miffed if he looks at me the wrong way after I've had a bad day.

Everyone knows life never goes according to plan. Yet, I tend to think that I will be the exception. It hasn't proven true yet but I'll keep planning. It gives me focus, goals and direction.

Even if the cracker crumbs on the floor are relentless.

Even if my bed only gets made three times a week.

Even if I read a book instead of clean my house.

Because my family still says "I love you" every night before we go to bed. So the laundry can wait... till tomorrow.


 Serene is a chocolate eating, gospel loving, high heel wearing, stay at home mom of four of the cutest little monsters you will ever see. She blogs at Serene is my name, not my life!. Serene is also a talented artist; you can view some of her work here.

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