Fluency in Child Wrangling (You Know You're a Mom If...)

I went to bed super early last night. It was nine o'clock to be exact. My head was stuffy & hurting & my patience was wiped out. The boys and I were invited to a friend's church for a revival & I thought, "yay, the boys would love that." And off we went for pizza at 6 PM. Sadly, we were home by 7:56. Yep, I was counting minutes at that point because there's always the infamous, "are we there yet? How much longer is it gonna take?" Being the expert (sometimes) on this, I guesstimated it would take us twenty minutes to get home and it did. 

My oldest Owen, was really good. I was so proud of him. He's growing up & can actually sit still. I remember the days where getting him to sit still and be anywhere near quiet were completely impossible, which brings me to my youngest & the wrangling that took place. 

Evan is 3 1/2. Sitting still isn't in his vocabulary. And quiet? Well, quiet isn't a word that's used very much when it comes to me or the boys. We're vocal. Although there's a time and place for everything, Evan's not quite there yet & honestly, I'm not either & I've got 33 years on him. 

Last night, I posted about What is God saying to you? . It's been on my heart & mind for a few weeks & I had to share. I posted this right before I left for the revival. All I could think was: what would these people think about me if I get up and walk out after writing this? Yes, I know it's completely nuts, but that's exactly how the devils gets in; through those teensy little thoughts that pass through. 

It's not about them. People will think what they want to, regardless of whether I like it or not. It's not about me. It's about God & what can be done for His glory. 

As the last few songs were played, I was praying. I was praying for God to give me what I needed in that moment & the patience to handle this moment & future ones without completely snapping. The moments don't stop folks & I pray that they never do. 

We are going to try our hand at storytime this morning. 

Count it all joy. - James 1:2

Under My Wing (#16: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if you say, "just give me a few minutes of free time," you sit down & this is what your free time looks like.

What Do You Have in Your Pocket? (#15: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if...

 you're well on your way to opening a tire shop with what's in your pocket. 

Mrs. Cheeto (#14: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if...

You step foot out of the shower & within five minutes of dressing yourself, you have some delightful stain on your shirt. No, they were not my Cheetos & no, I am not changing my shirt. #momstatus

Mr. Marker (#13: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if.. you've seen this face before, on separate occasions.

 The one that gets quiet ten minutes before it's time to go, when you're wrapped up in last minutes & haven't even had a second to notice how quiet it really is and wonder why it is what it is.

I love this face & all the mischief it brings along with the sweetness. 

The Search is On (#12: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if...

You find yourself underneath the dining room table [searching for your sanity] before the morning is through.

Bubba was at school of course, so we had to tape his picture to the table leg so he could join us.

Save-a-Lot (#11: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if...

There are more savings cards on your keychain than keys.

Drink up! (#10: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if...

You can convert straw to sippy in under a minute.

Mother Mayhem (#9: You Know You're a Mom If...)

It's amazing how fast the emotions experienced as a mother can change. We're always experiencing a "phase" at our house. Sometimes it's one or both of the kids & sometimes it's me. It's almost never my husband, unless you can consider Fantasy Football a phase. 

This morning, I decided to pack a note in Owen's lunchbox. Just a little something I used to do all the time last year & haven't at all this year. I love doing little dorky things like that. Time gets in the way, moves way too fast in the mornings (and any other time during the years) & I forget. Sometimes, having to make sure three people are up, ready & out the door by 7:15-7:20 AM gets overwhelming when you add whining, crying & pouting. 

We had a reasonably decent morning this morning. We got ready, with not too much lip, got in the car, Owen was feeling a little puny but I asked & he was okay to go, practiced our sight words & made it to school. 

And then it happened.

Sometimes there are issues in the breakfast line with older children breaking in line & Owen just gets pushed further back & says nothing. If you read any of my gibberish, you know that I'm no pushover; I'm quite assertive, really. Rarely if ever, do you have to guess what's on my mind. Bashful wouldn't be an adjective used to describe me, EVER. 

Owen was getting pushed further behind & we were a few minutes late getting to the cafeteria this morning so that meant less time to eat. Evan & I go every morning to eat breakfast with Owen at school. I fix Evan's breakfast at home & carry it with us so he can eat with Bubba. 

One morning a few weeks ago, Evan had a fever & Owen had to ride with Mo into school. Of course, being the mother hen that I am, I worried about him going by himself. He was fine. As a matter of fact, he loved it & wanted to do it everyday. 

------------------Insert light bulb here--------------

This would be the prime time for me to get "it". Nope, I didn't get it. I wasn't ready. I wanted to continue to eat breakfast with him and control the situation. Well, not consciously, but that's what was happening. Motherhood is usually crystal clear after the dust settles. 

Well, as Owen was getting pushed further behind (I got off track a little, I usually do), I got up & stood in line & pulled him on through. I feel like (okay, I know) he was embarrassed. His little eyes welled up with tears & he said he didn't want to eat because he didn't feel good but in hindsight, I know I hurt his little feelings by embarrassing him. I feel terrible. 

This isn't the dress rehearsal; this is it. 

Sometimes I do wrong things & sometimes I do right things but, I WILL ALWAYS DO THINGS. 

I am the mother of two handsome, smart, sweet boys & I will always do things. Those of you that know me personally know why I always say the above statement. And those of you that don't know me personally, are about to find out: 

My mother was not active in my life & remains (for the most part, not all) inactive in my life. I have never posted anything regarding that fact, but I had an epiphany yesterday & will tactfully (as best as I can muster) post more in the future. 

When we pick Owen up this afternoon, it's time for us all to grow. I am going to ask him if he'd like for me to drop him off & let him go to breakfast by himself in the mornings. Well, all except for Tuesday's. 

Times, they are a'changin'.

I Got Skills (#8: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if....

you are skillfully able to pry chewing gum from the washing machine walls, as well as an entire load of laundry. 

After finding the crayons in the dryer a while ago, I learned to separate. Whew, bullet dodged.

Thriller Flash Mob - Party of One (#7: You Know You're a Mom If...)

When this idea sprouted, there were more of us; then we dwindled. When the time came at 9:45pm Halloween night, I was the only one. I mentally prepared for this. I had an idea that I might be the only one. 

I decided that I would go it alone if I had to. I'm a firm believer in being who you are as an individual. I've been called weird & strange for as far back as I can remember. I encourage my children to be themselves, no matter what.What kind of example would I be setting had I not done the dance because no one (other than myself) showed up? Not a credible example, that's for sure. 

With an audience of five, the show went on. I didn't butcher the dance nearly as bad as I thought I did. I do not, however, have any rhythm, hand/eye coordination & I absolutely crack under pressure (always). I practiced a lot & as always, my mind went blank when it came time. I suppose that's stage fright. 

At any rate, I had a wonderful time, wore makeup (even if it was Halloween makeup) for the first time in forever, met some fantastic new friends, practiced what I preach & went home feeling like a million bucks. 

You know you're a Mom if...

you find creative ways to lead by example.

Thriller Flash Mob -Party of One

Halloween Night 2014

In Search Of (#6: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if...

You can't find your keys, your hairbrush, your phone or your mind, but these are everywhere.

A Day at the Office (#5: You Know you're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if your laundry is always completely finished, folded & tucked neatly in its place. 

That was funny, wasn't it?

Maniac [Meltdown] Mondays***Disclaimer(s) Provided*** (#4:You Know You're a Mom If...)

***DISCLAIMER: This post will be all over the place ***

Quite a while ago, I posted a blog entry titled: 

Monday [Morning] Meltdowns ***Disclaimer(s) Provided*** (#1: You Know You're a Mom If...). Yes, I had to look at the date because I had no clue when it actually happened. The memory is gone, but that's a whole other can of worms. 

Moving right along, the meltdown was from my then, 5 year old. The meltdown this morning, which wasn't really a meltdown per say; a little snit maybe, but I'll throw it in the mix with a meltdown because it had the potential, was from me.

This morning, we were up to our usual's. I was up at 6am, showered and ready by 6:15am, Bible Study & coffee (Ev was moving around in his crib by this time-6:40ish), wake up Owen, then pancakes for Ev & preparing Owen's morning ritual whilst whipping up the pancakes. All was well in the mother hood this morning. No whining, no crying, no fighting to get ready. It was all cooperation & love, which is rare. Pancakes done, Ev ready, O ready, backpack ready, Ev's bag ready, 7:15am and it's time to leave for school.

We get to the car & I apparently, parked the car a different way and Owen couldn't get in it. I, of course, broke out with my elevated, stern Mom voice & was like, "Owen, just get in the car." He tried. He knew better, but I insisted. WHACK! goes the door on a column underneath the carport. What I'm thinking in my mind (he has absolutely no clue what I'm thinking) is, I spend extra time every time we pull up in this yard putting a sheet over the hood of the car because the dern cat won't stay off the car (it was a rubber snake for about a week & a half, but that stopped working) and here you go and whack the door. 

Immediately, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING????" Poor fella. I apologized on the way too school & told him I was terribly sorry & he knew already what the outcome would be & I didn't see. It was my fault, I shouldn't have raised my voice. 

He's such a good boy & parenting so dern hard sometimes. Where's my dag-gum medal I deserve-DAILY!!! Sure, he's going through several "stages" that I would prefer to be OVER 20 minutes ago, but he is an awesome child. I don't have to be concerned how he's acting at school, he's a model student. He saves all the good stuff for me when he gets home (he actually said that to me in Pre-K); lucky me. I would prefer it be that way, then vice versa.

So, we practice our sight words, have breakfast at school, which is cold in the mornings & I realize that Owen's NEW jacket is missing from his bookbag. Yes, the one that I DID NOT write his name in. Oh yes. So, I drop Ev off at Mo's room for a second, O off at his (I look in his cubby, no dice) & head out for the hunt. To the computer lab-no dice. To the gym-no dice. To the playground-no dice. 

GOOD GRACIOUS!!!!

All I can see are dollar signs because of my thoughtlessness of not putting the name in the jacket. BOOM! Mrs. Becky says, "Here it is!!"

Aside from being a lunatic mom, I am "typical woman" (that phrase reallllllllly irritates me coming from men because they don't have a dern clue what it's like) with hormones & mood swings & emotions, that I with I could turn off sometimes but alas, no dice.

Crisis averted (somewhat), Owen's at school, Evan and I are headed to the grocery store. Got a snub from a girl in the parking lot who always looks unhappy; don't know her, don't want to. I smile & say hello, but that's the extent of our conversations. I refuse to let unhappy people draw the happiness out of me. 

The Piggly Wiggly was a quick trip. In and out. Got a fantastic compliment  as I walked in the door about how I'm losing weight! YESSS, feels good to be me! 

We get back home and Ev, of course, wants to watch Farm Country Ahead. He got this dvd for Owen's birthday from Aunt Joyce and we have watched it I know, 50 times (if not more). Did you know a Mama Milk Cow can produce up to 8 gallons of milk a day? I know lots of other little facts but, I won't ruin the ending for you.

He sits down to watch it, I put away the groceries & sit down at the computer for a quick blog post (this one), hop up to check on him & this is what I find:

You Know You're a Mom if...

you make many mistakes; none of which, are your children. 

 

Don't Forget the Crayon (#3: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if your grocery store list is written in crayon.

Eating [Not So] Alone (#2: You Know You're a Mom If...)

You know you're a Mom if... 

this is how you eat. 

Remember how I said I would start a regular post for such occasions? Well, it didn't take four months, it took five to get back to it. SuperMom, that's me.

Monday [Morning] Meltdowns ***Disclaimer(s) Provided*** (#1: You Know You're a Mom If...)

 

Evan was awake before the first alarm (the first one is set for 6 am) this morning. YAY! My almost 8 month old wakes with the chickens anyhow & Daylight Savings Time just added to the fun. Actually, it wasn't that bad this morning. Normally, school mornings are utter and total chaos (when it comes time to remove eyes from the cartoons & get ready) at our house. However, this morning started out different. 'Started out' being the key words in that statement. 

It was daylight outside so, when I went to open the curtains and do our morning ritual of "wakey, wakey, rise & shine", I added how it was a beautiful morning outside and said, "look Woog, it's daylight!". Boom, he was up and at'em. YAY, for real this time. I was all, "this is way too easy. Where's the hidden camera & Ashton Kutcher?". Surely it's clear that the sleep deprivation over the last almost eight months is taking a toll on my mental stability? Who am I kidding? Mental stability, schmamility, I gots none of that.

***DISCLAIMER: YOU KNOW YOU'RE A MOM IF... YOU START SOMETHING FOR YOURSELF & IT TAKES A MINIMUM OF 10 DAYS TO GET BACK TO IT. I started this two Mondays ago.***

The morning went superb. I was astounded at how beautifully the morning was going. 

***DISCLAIMER #2: YOU KNOW YOU'RE A MOM IF... YOU START SOMETHING & IT TAKES YOU FOUR MONTHS TO GET BACK TO IT & THEN, WHEN YOU GET BACK TO IT, YOU CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT YOU WERE DOING.***

I can't even remember what happened but, considering the greater part of what I post about (and what I will be posting about today) is relating to my life as a mother, I'll finish this post. Wow, it sure feels good to finish something. I know, I know, I'm not there yet....

On a side note: I think I'll start a regular post about "You know you're a Mom if". Yes, IF I remember... Don't expect a post for at least four months.

Evan is ACTUALLY napping & I've got my workout in so, chances are, before I finish this, he will wake up so, I'll TRY to be brief. 

My sweet chunk will be one year old on Saturday. Yes, HUGE, enormous tears are flowing. I can't believe it. It's bittersweet. My other little darling will be six on August 26th. If you know me, you know that I love my babies. You know that raising my children is my job. No, I don't mean that like most people; I love my job. Raising them is what I do. It's what I breathe. I do not come first. I don't "work" like most people. I don't get off work. I do not get paid for services rendered. 

I do however, get tired of people asking me when I am going back to work. It's irritating to say the least. I try to be as polite as possible, but that statement is completely demeaning. It happens AT LEAST once a week. 

Raising my children is the most important job that I could EVER have. I will never be able to get back their childhood. SO no, to most, I don't work. To me, I'm always working. That being said, I think I sacrifice sanity. Just a touch, but what's a little sanity in the grand scheme of things? 

In case you were wondering, Manic Mondays aren't as bad as they were....