So, today I prepped rooms for insect spraying, packed separate bags for the children, took out the trash, vacated the home for said spraying and drying/airing, turned in paper work at the housing office, napped baby at a friend's place, returned home, put daughter down for nap and—all while juggling baby and keeping him away from pesticides and disinfectants—vacuumed, swept, mopped, wiped down the baseboards in every room with disinfectant, put the rooms back together, and took a cool shower to recover. I must have vacuumed up over a dozen crickets in the living room, most of them still alive and hopping.
And yes, it was 107 degrees today in my neighborhood. And, no, we don't have central air.
Then I nursed the baby down for another nap, read the daughter a story, made venison meatloaf from scratch with an original brand-new recipe (which we all loved), wiped and polished bookcases and shelves, served dinner and got children down for bed.
Oh, and the venison? Hunted in the wild and made into sausage at home . . . by my uncle (a master bowman), not me. But still.
Today I feel like Diana, goddess of the hunt. Beware my vacuum wand, O leaping green stags of the carpet!
So, yes; I am a domestic goddess. One that comes replete with your common household goddess attributes such as rage, ire, and fury, unrealistic demands, fickleness, vanity, and general unpredictability.
There are three things for which I am grateful, three for which I give thanks:
(1) I am grateful for a most patient, accommodating husband.
(2) I am grateful that my children will not remember every moment of their time with me in childhood.
(3) And most importantly, I am grateful for the fact that I am not God. (And so are a lot of other people.)
Who is like you, O Lord, among the gods?
Who is like You, glorified in holiness,
Marvelous in praises, doing wonders?