Divide and Conquer

Saturday did not go according to plan.

Fire ants rarely consult the family calendar.

We discovered them inside Gerald's habitat.

Not one or two wandering ants that somehow found their way into the house.

Enough that suddenly whatever we thought Saturday was going to look like didn't matter anymore.

We had a leopard gecko that needed to get somewhere safe.

Immediately.

There wasn't time for all six of us to tackle every problem together.

We still had groceries to get.

The food pantry still needed us.

Gerald needed a rescue habitat.

Supplies needed to be bought.

The existing habitat needed to be dealt with.

And somewhere underneath all of that was the considerably larger question of how the ants got there in the first place.

So we did what families sometimes have to do.

We divided.

My wife took part of the crew and headed toward the food pantry and grocery store.

I took the other part and went hunting for everything we needed to build Gerald a temporary rescue tank.

Different cars.

Different directions.

Different jobs.

Same problem.

Same family.

Eventually, everyone made their way home.

Then we cleaned.

And cleaned.

And cleaned some more.

We moved things.

Inspected things.

Made plans.

Gerald got somewhere safe.

The food made it into the house.

The things that absolutely had to happen...

Happened.

Not everything did.

We still need to treat around the house and yard.

We need to mow.

We need to get the broadcast treatment down and make the area considerably less inviting to the tiny invaders who apparently believe our property belongs to them.

Sunday had other ideas.

Rain.

So apparently the fire ants have now been added to the family calendar.

I'm sure they're honored.

And looking at this week...

They fit right in.

Today is mostly a normal Monday.

Work.

Meetings.

The usual collection of things that need my attention.

Except tonight I'll also submit my final discussion posts for the two classes I've spent the last eight weeks thoroughly enjoying.

Anthropology.

Sociology.

We're almost there.

Somewhere around all of that, we'll be watching the weather.

If we can get the yard mowed and start dealing with the ants, we will.

If not...

The ants will continue occupying space on the calendar until we evict them.

Tomorrow, my wife will take David and Jacob to meet their teachers.

I'll be working.

I'd love to be there.

I won't be.

Sometimes that's simply how this works.

There are things that need to happen in two places at once, and despite years of trying, neither my wife nor I have figured out how to clone ourselves.

So...

Divide and conquer.

Wednesday is where things get interesting.

My final discussion replies are due.

David and Jacob start school.

Their first day is only a half day, which somehow makes the whole thing feel both less intimidating and considerably more real.

This thing we've been talking about for weeks is finally here.

My wife will get them home in the afternoon.

There are groceries and a few other things she'll need to grab along the way.

I'll still be working.

Everyone will be moving.

Everyone will have something to do.

And then, Wednesday evening, we'll all come back together.

A pastor is coming over.

We've been looking at a new church for our family, asking questions and trying to understand whether this might be where we're supposed to plant ourselves.

So after spending most of Wednesday moving in different directions, all six of us will eventually end up back under the same roof for a conversation about where our family might worship together.

There's something fitting about that.

Then comes Thursday.

The boys' first full day of school.

The new routine becomes a little more real.

Earlier mornings.

Driving.

Classes.

Home.

Repeat.

By Thursday night, there's a very real possibility that all of us will simply collapse wherever we happen to be standing.

Unfortunately, Friday remains stubbornly scheduled for the following morning.

So we'll push through.

And hopefully...

Friday will be quiet.

A quiet Friday.

A quiet weekend.

A chance to breathe after a week that feels like it's already moving before Monday morning has even properly started.

Because waiting just beyond that weekend is something else.

Jacob's birthday.

Ten.

Two digits.

But that's next week's story.

For now, there are ants.

Teachers.

School.

Work.

Final discussions.

Groceries.

A pastor.

A yard.

A gecko.

And approximately seventeen billion things that will inevitably appear between now and Friday that nobody remembered to put on the calendar.

Family life is funny that way.

We talk a lot about doing things together.

Family dinners.

Trips.

Movie nights.

Afternoons at the lake.

Those moments matter.

A lot.

But sometimes being a family doesn't look like six people standing in the same place.

Sometimes Mom's car goes one direction.

Dad's goes another.

Someone is buying groceries.

Someone is rescuing a leopard gecko.

Someone is meeting a teacher.

Someone is finishing schoolwork.

Someone is picking kids up.

Someone is trying to reclaim the yard from an invading army of fire ants.

Everyone has an assignment.

Everyone goes where they're needed.

And somehow...

We're still doing it together.

That's what Saturday reminded me.

We didn't need everyone solving the same problem.

We needed everyone solving their part of it.

Then the cars came back up the driveway.

The doors opened.

Everyone came home.

We're going to divide and conquer a lot this week.

We'll leave at different times.

Drive in different directions.

Handle different things.

Cross things off different lists.

And probably add several things nobody saw coming.

But eventually...

The cars will come back up the driveway.

The doors will open.

Everyone will come home.

Maybe that's the part of "divide and conquer" we don't say enough.

The dividing is temporary.

The together is the point.

Being together doesn't always mean being in the same place. Sometimes loving a family well means recognizing that there are more needs than there are people available to meet them, dividing the work, and trusting each other to handle our part. The important thing isn't that everyone does everything together. It's knowing that nobody is carrying everything alone. We go where we're needed, do what we can, and eventually find our way back to each other. That's teamwork. That's partnership. And on weeks like this one, that's family.

Much love.

Stay safe.

Wash your damn hands.

And I will see you, next time.