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My days at the shelter follow a similar routine of sorts. Most mornings I wake up to either my one-year-old’s fussing or the other little three-year-old that stays here. He’s a cheery little fellow with a booming voice. This morning, too, he was the one to open our door and holler, “Good morning!” waking all seven of us! Regardless, mornings here begin a little after After combing my hair and getting dressed, I proceed to the kitchen where the children’s excited jabber assaults my ears. They’re waiting at the table and pushing about me with anxious demands. Talk about a final wake up alarm! “I want oatmeal!” “I want bananas!” “I want cheerios!” Everyone seems to have a different menu request. Once everyone has finished eating, I wipe faces and hands. Then the children all help me to clear table and sweep the floor. I wipe the counters, change garbage as needed, find someone who is willing to take it outside for me (for safety reasons), and chase after a very active baby and three-year-old! I’m already out of breath by the time I gather up all of the used towels and washrags and hand them to a child to take to the laundry room. I pick up stray toys that have been dragged out and put them back where they go. Hoisting the baby onto my hip and grabbing a few other toys that belong at the other end of the hall in the playroom, I make my way to the bedrooms. The baby gets put down and the toys are run to the toy area. Now it is time to begin the task of dressing children for the day. Diapers are changed and bodies dressed. Hair is brushed and combed and dirty clothing gathered and put into our laundry basket. Alright, time to clean the bedrooms! We were blessed with three rooms here. That’s six beds and one Pack-N-Play. I change sheets once a week and make beds daily. Children’s books are picked up off the floor and so are toys. The entire time I’m tidying, little (and bigger!) ones are being instructed on how to help. I’m aiding them with putting bed covers on neatly and straightening sheets and blankets underneath. I’m fetching the baby who has wanderlust and seeking out mysteriously disappearing children protesting “child labor”! Now that the bedrooms look nice and neat, it’s time to take my basket of laundry to the laundry room. The little ones like to help put the dirty items into the front-loading wash machine and add the soap. They like to pull the dial after I adjust settings and make the water swish-swish. Often, it’s time to change diapers again. I spend some time in the playroom with the children and relax for a few minutes. Then, I work on paperwork and make necessary phone calls. Sometimes there are appointments to be had. Then, I check the laundry, switch loads (sometimes there are diapers to throw in… I have my cloth ones with me), and fold. Again the children like to help. They put dryer sheets in the machine and push the “start” button. They even help me to clean the lint filter. Believe it or not, it’s now about time for lunch. Many days I work with the mother of four who is staying here. We feed our families and the other ladies if they’re here. Other days, like today, I’m the only resident here. I choose something to make from the cabinets and begin cooking and fixing plates. The children gather about the table and we pray before eating. Then, it is time to clean up our mess as we did at breakfast, with everyone working together. Diapers are changed, and naps are begun. I tuck the baby first because she’s the easiest. She goes down quickly. Then, I lie down with the other little ones. While they relax, I read a book or work on more paperwork. After naptime, I get everyone a small snack. We relax together in the playroom and play a game. I make sure everyone is safe and behaving. Then, diapers are changed and we move back to the kitchen where supper is begun and then served. After clean-up, I give baths three times per week. A couple of the children take showers, instead. Bedclothes are put on and a little more play is had. We do preschool learning, and the older littles practice reading. We pick up the playroom for the day and then begin tucking procedures. Again, I begin with the baby. Then, it is time to wrangle the other four small children into the bedrooms so I can get them down. By this time, I’m probably more exhausted than they are. It takes a little time to get them to calm down and lie still. There have been times I’ve accidentally fallen asleep on a book, before they’ve closed their eyes! Being here is more emotionally exhausting than physically exhausting in some ways. While I’m waiting for the children to fall asleep (if I leave the room before they are asleep, they’ve proven likely to get up and run around halls, switch lights on and off and other naughty things), I type on the computer, read a book or do paperwork. Once the littles are asleep, I sneak out to have some one-on-one time with the oldest child I have with me. The three oldest children “rotate” and I get a “new” helper/visitor every few days. Every other day I get online and post any “blogs” I’ve saved on the computer. I check email, and we have a snack. Before I go to bed, I shower as needed, and brush my teeth. I have my personal devotion time, and read in bed for a while before dropping off to sleep. And, of course, the whole thing gets repeated again a few hours later.
As you can see, a day here at the shelter is not abnormal or strange. Only the surroundings are. The fact there is an office on either end of the building is. You feel like you're in a "fishbowl" being watched by all the staff that comes and goes... as well as by the other residents. I keep to myself as much as possible, but in a place like this where everything but your bedrooms are shared that is not easy. In addition, the outside things are missing. There are no walks, no playground play, no windows with light streaming in. That I miss dreadfully. At times, I feel like just going outside with the children, anyway. Who cares what the staff thinks!? -- But then I remember the myriad of ways my husband has escalated since I left him. We remain indoors unless an appointment forces me out... but always the children are indoors. I cannot wait until we're set free, and yet dread it. Here we are protected. When we at last have our own place, we won't be. |
Thoughts
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Anonymous