With hubby away, and me holding down the fort (which consists of 3 kids, 2 dogs, 4 bunnies and various hamsters, frog and spiders) things were a little hectic this past week.

It is such a joy to parent with my hubby. We spell each other off, we both get time to embrace a project without disruption, and the little dude doesn’t get dragged to school drop offs and soccer practices.

With hubby gone, dishes are left until after bedtime, we resort to quicker and easier meals and little dude ends up cranky and miserable by the end of the week because of consistently interrupted naps.

And we are still in the unpacking stage.  The loft has visitors staying in it this weekend and it is in no state to welcome guests.  The basement has all the extra items we just haven’t found a home for yet.

But sometimes when the sh%t is hitting the fan, the most unexpected person comes to your rescue.

My eldest daughter, while only 8, is a practical and logical human.  She thrives on projects and lists and clearly defined expectations.

And this week, she had my back.

I have always shied away from involving her in any parental type responsibilities, not wanting to fall into some weird “Little women” situation where she is stepping into an older sister/caregiver role.  I desperately want her to maintain the freedom and flexibility of youth. . . and she desperately wants responsibility.

She quietly and efficiently took care of her jobs this week, the ones on the list and the ones on the “Bonus” list (Ie: for $$) I flippantly remarked to her one busy day about how much more helpful she was here than in the city, and she paused, looked me dead in the eye and said “It’s because there are more responsibilities here mom, and I have been wanting that”

And it’s true.  The responsibilities we have are an instant cure for boredom.  The fuzzy tickle you give the bunny when you are cleaning the hutch. Hauling their hay (click for a video of Izzy hauling hay) and cutting up their veggies every night. . . all fun and enjoyable activities.

Hauling firewood is a laugh, especially when your sister steps on a slug in the process.

We are shown every day, but our kids reactions, by their happiness and helpfulness; things are better here.

So, with my best mate by my side, I carry on through a few more days, waiting for my hubby to come home. . . but promising my daughter that she is still my best helper!