We had a perfectly lovely day—swim team trials, Di’Nics for lunch, a sail around the bay and the Maurice River, oysters on the docks in BiValve, kite flying and snacks on the beach in Fortescue, all with Mike’s parents (which is always the icing on the cake for my trio. They adore their Grammy and Papa from Ohio!).
Then on the car ride home, pandemonium broke out. I don’t even fully want to dissect the reasons and the spark that exploded into a full on shouting match, which then ended with the three children banished to the yard to work out their differences.
All in all, it was bizarre, but, normal around here. My children can suddenly fight over anything—a blade of grass, the last bit of bread, mouth noises and even, the delivery of an apology. No matter what it is, they each have their roles in the fight—one always screams you don’t understand, another just sobs and the third just screams. They rotate through who grabs and pinches an arm and who is the most wronged and who is the first to offer up a martyr apology. But two things are consistent:
- They all blame us in the end, as they should.
- And, they end up, just like this:
Love, like blessings, is complicated. It is not all beautiful or peaceful. It is very noisy and sometimes, ugly and volatile. It is the forgiveness that binds it all together—the beautiful with the ugly; the peaceful with the noisy. That is love.
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