I’ll be honest, one of the things I was happiest to leave behind when we moved to Ireland was my vegetable garden. It was also the thing I was dreading about moving back to southern Ontario. I mean, I love the fresh vegetables, but preserving (canning, freezing, etc.) them looked big to me.

(I know how pathetic that could sound to someone who has multiple gardens and many children and who makes a year’s worth of butter at a time. Let’s just say I didn’t learn as much about housekeeping as I could have while growing up because duh, I had better things to do! Like reading The Babysitter’s Club and looking at my ankles and wondering when they’d become slender like the big girls’. And also because I was lazy and had no interest in learning things like Useful Life Skills.)

Last Friday both proved my fears and made me kick their butts, too. 

My neighbor had lots of fresh sweet corn, so at 9:00 I hauled the kids over there and we picked about three bushel. I processed corn all day, and at 9:00 that evening, I finished cleaning up the kitchen.

In those twelve hours:

-Gabriel’s car broke down on the way to work, and I had to pick him up. 

-The children got a bottle of body wash and drizzled it over the living room carpet and the couch.

-Bronwyn did number 2 in her panties.

-Gregory did number 1 on the floor.

-I had to run back into town to get more freezer bags, plus do other daily duties like cooking, which I would love to forgo but somehow we still, always, need to eat.

Seriously, just typing this almost makes me cry. Sometimes the combination of motherhood and housekeeping makes me feel like, if I were in a book, the author would be having an evil belly laugh right now. I hope someday I’ll feel like laughing about it, too.

In the meantime, I admit it’s good to know I can tackle big jobs like that and get them done, even if it literally takes me all day. 

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