The Greys Of Life

As a child, I often played "When I grow-up..."  

When I grow-up, I'm going to be a Momma to 8 perfectly behaved,  always happy, always healthy children.

When I grow-up, I'm going to be a wake-up every morning smiling at my husband.  

When I grow-up, I'm going to be a teacher to a classroom full of equally gentile children.

When I grow-up, I'm going to live in a house with a white picket fence and flowers that grow year 'round.

When I grow-up, I'm going to cook all our meals from scratch.

Well, I grew up.   And much to my surprise, my 8children 2 cchildren sometimes are defiant.  Sometimes they get angry.  Sometimes they get sick.   Sometimes they get hurt.  

Sometimes when I wake-up, the last thing I want to do is smile at my husband.  Sometimes I am to tired to even open my eyes to see my husband.   Sometimes my breath is so bad my husband doesn't want me to open my mouth to smile.  

And that classroom full of children I envisioned didn't include anything about endless funding paperwork, or politics, or catty co-workers, or when those gentile students call you names you aren't even exactly sure what they mean. 

I had no clue that you'd have to pressure wash that fence and water the flowers, nor the cost of the house it surrounded.  

And little did I consider the fact that some days many days by the time supper rolls around I have already worked 13 hours and someone has swim lessons or church or one of the dozens of other obligations that are part of life here at the Hen's House.  

The truth is that life is a lot more complicated than I could have ever guessed or, for that fact, believed. What once was so black and white has now become a complex and puzzling world of greys.   I am at a point now, though, that instead of that being frustrating that I find comfort in it all.   The grey is what makes it beautiful.