When Number 1 came home from school with grand aspirations of starting a club, I grinned from ear to ear.Obviously the delight did not come from how much work that this project was going to involve on my part, that realization was not lost on me, but because of my pride in my little protégé.I, too, had a very successful club in elementary school; that I started all by myself.I, of course, was the president.I, of course, always got to sit in the cool rocking chair.My throne did become a bit of an issue that, I believe, we may have had to vote on at one point.I won.I got to pick our order of business and our outings.It was super awesome fun!!And, I expect, if you ask any of my subordinates, you will find that they agree and have very fond memories of our little club.We even made neon-colored plastic visors (it WAS the 80s!) with the initials of our club’s name written in puffy paint.Everywhere we went as a club we wore our very trendy visors.It was our equivalent of a Girl Scout vest.Our mission statement?We didn’t have one, but in hindsight, I would have to say that it was nothing more than…to have fun.The name you ask??? The GJWHF Club.And that is what we would have told you if you asked.“The GJWHF Club.”It still rolls off my tongue like a song.
Our moms were very accommodating.My mom let me host the club every time; it was, afterall, my fault the other moms were in this mess.They came along very willingly to our outings.I have no idea what this club was to them. Now that I am a Truthful Mommy, I can only imagine that to some of them it was quite a bother.But to most it was probably a time to catch up with each other, and probably gossip.Just a way to pat us on the head and say, “I am glad you are having fun, dear.”But to me, it was HUGE…Really Big!
I began to ask Number 1 about her plans for her new club.I began to ask her…only after I finished telling her all about my very successful GJWHF Club.My abounding pride in this elementary school enterprise was perplexing.Still is.But apparently this little club did something for me.To this day I am always looking for a way to have some committed, routine socialization.Just since I married The Husband, I have started a monthly GNO (Girls Night Out, I love to abbreviate) for my neighborhood girls, a Bunco Group, a Bible Study in my house and have taken on the roll of social planner for my Life Class at church.I recently started a Dinner Club that is SUPER fun and, yes, you guessed it, successful.We have a blast.And eat really really great.All of these are still going strong, except the Bunco Group.But even that was a success, because I came out of that with a few of the best girls a Truthful Mommy could know.And one thing I know for sure, I cannot live without a TRUE, good friend…or several!!I mean, I write a Truthful Mommy blog, the friends still hanging around have to be real at this point!
I did find a few differing themes between Number 1 and me after hearing her strategy.The name of her club?The Caring Crocs Club.Why Caring?Because she wants to do things to help raise money for people that don’t have enough food.The name of my club?The Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Club.(STOP IT!..... Cyndi Lauper was far-out)Why?Cause we just wanted to have fun.Period.No raising money for others, no thinking about others.So, the only thing I can figure is she gets her social aspirations from her momma and her tender heart from her daddy.Whatever, I am still grinning from ear to ear with pride!
After being able to be on the Mommy side of this thing, I have done some analyzing of my own elementary school organized club experience.I have ZERO time left in my life to develop another GJWHF Club, much less with the addition of values, morals and a mission.But now that I am able to have some vision on the impact it has very probably had on who I am today,I feel the only choice I have is to nurture this thing!She told me again tonight that she was going to be needing my help this weekend with the invitations.Oh joy.I do love stationery.But that is a whole nother blog!
Sometimes you have to be willing to put yourself in a position where you cry yourself ugly and feel the hopelessness in order to find strength.
This blog is intended to give me a way to lend some funny to my chaos. To give other moms (and dads) a way to feel better about their mess, or at least to feel like they are in good company. But I haven’t been feeling so funny lately. Guess that is why there have been fewer posts. I thought maybe I was just running out of steam, out of funny, out of chaos, out of creative writing juices. But I don’t think that is it. For sure the chaos and mess continue, and, over time, I still find the funny. But my head is in something much much more serious. So, writing a blog about my comical mayhem has seemed insufficient.
I have a sister. She is amazing. She is strong, gorgeous, tall, thin, blonde (well, her hairstylist is awesome), smart, deep, positive, nurturing and loving. I was in Texas with her for 2 weeks recently while she was recovering from a mastectomy and this is her story.
When she had her daughter, (who is now a beautiful 24 year old that I adore with all of my soul), she was a single mom with very little help or money. My mom was there for her support-wise, for babysitting, etc. But very little financial support. She worked hard, but it wasn't enough. When she sought help from the government so that she could go back to school, they told her she made too much money. That is the way it goes, isn’t it? Stop working and we will help you. Try to make it in this world and we will N.O.T. That was small potatoes compared to what God would challenge her with in her life.
14 years ago, she and her husband welcomed to this world what they term their "million dollar baby." My sister has had kidney trouble since she was a child so the pregnancy was too hard on her body. She went into labor at 23 weeks and the baby was 2 pounds. The doctors told them to start planning the funeral. They never did, they never needed it. My sister is much too positive for that kind of talk. That sweet baby was so completely underdeveloped; the doctors told my sister that his sweet little parts may not fully develop and they needed to start making decisions as to if it was ok with them to make him…a her. They did the research about it, worried themselves about it, wrapped their brains around it, but a change was never needed. God is good, all the time.
He is an amazing and healthy young 14 year old boy that I am so super proud to call Nephew!!!
Over the years following that my sister had been experiencing alot of fatigue, chronic pain, and just the plain old "feeling older than she should's." She couldn't do much of anything, even shopping with her sister, before she had to take a long nap. No doctor could figure out what was going on. Finally, after many many years of searching and doctors visits, she ended up at MD Anderson Cancer center in Houston having portions of her large and small intestines removed because she had a Carcinoid on it.
Thanks to a surgeon willing to x-ray, test and do exploratory surgery, she felt like a new woman. It was amazing to watch my sister come alive again!! It caused her some lifetime GI issues, some of which have given her a sharp understanding of just how much her husband loves her and is willing to put up with for her!! Man that girl be smelly! She has also lost a ton of weight because of it, but she soldiers through!
She was feeling amazing. Exercising again, traveling, and, just recently, she got REALLY into planning my niece's wedding coming up this June. Then on a routine visit to her kidney doctor she found out her kidney's were digressing and functioning at around 17%. She began the process of having a fistula implanted in her arm for dialysis and getting on the kidney transplant list. This woman has amazing friends all over. There were people popping up from everywhere willing to give this beautiful lady a kidney. It looked as though I was going to be the best fit, but there was still some testing to do before we knew if it was official. After some real wrapping-my-mind-around loosing a kidney and being that connected to my sister; I was good to go. I was actually a bit delighted at the thought that I might have to be told to REST for a few weeks after being a kidney donor. Surgery was likely to be a walk in the park compared to 3 kids, right?? So, there we were. Worried her kidney's would not make it through the process of getting to the actual transplant but happy for all the provisions so far.
Then just before Christmas I got a call from my niece. My sister had found a lump in her breast, had a mammogram and would know the results after Christmas. AFTER Christmas???? We were told, "She doesn't want to talk to anyone, but she wanted you all to know so that you can pray." After Christmas came. She has breast cancer. Breast cancer in and of itself is scary. But then we are told you must be cancer free for 5 years to be eligible for a transplant. Now the kidney transplant is null and void. We (she) must all wrap our heads around breast cancer and the chemo that comes along with that. How will that affect her already failing kidneys?? No one knows, at that point, we are just focused on the mastectomy that is scheduled for Feb 21, or is it.....
I get a call on February 14 thinking it was a "Happy Valentines Day" call. Nope, my sister is on the other line in the hospital. She had trouble breathing accompanied by severe pain. They admitted her into the hospital for pneumonia. This news concerned us because we thought this meant that the mastectomy scheduled for the next week would have to be rescheduled. God worked his miracles once again and the mastectomy happened. Just as planned. On February 21, 2012.
Her daughter and husband were there with her for the surgery and the week after. I got there on February 25; 4 days after the surgery and 15 days ago. It was a roller coaster ride from the moment I got there. As though the weeks and months leading up to my visit weren’t emotionally draining enough. Doctor visits everyday. It is amazing how many doctors you need when you have renal problems, part of your intestines missing, unexplained lung infections, breast cancer and a looming reconstructive surgery. Not to mention the massive pile of meds I had to learn to navigate for her.
She just seems so sick. I thought maybe it was just par for the course for a woman recovering from breast cancer surgery. But, she is nauseous, lethargic, pale, frail and weak. At the visit to her renal doc we find out why she seems so very very sick. It is not just “par for the course.” It is because her kidneys are failing her. It is all just too much for her weak organs. They admit her to the hospital. I go too. I am not about to leave her side. I am her advocate.
After 5 days of I.V. fluids, hospital food, doctor’s rounds, 5 mornings of hospital coffee, she is looking and feeling much better. There is no real explanation for her improvement except lots of meds, love, prayer and the abundant and amazing grace of our precious Savior, Jesus. For 5 days we were sent nurses that fed our faith and nourished our confidence in those that care for the sick. We were commissioned with hospital staff that needed our grace and love more than we needed theirs. It amazes me how God tangles us in each others lives in such a way. It is certain to both me and my sister that we were sent one angel in particular. Ms. Linda. At the heaviest time of need and hopelessness, she came to us. She sang songs of the gospel to us. It was not awkward. It was beautiful. She cried with us, she held us both and she sang. She was a nurse tech, and she held us and sang to us and called us her “sisters in Jesus.” She was sent to us. By God. She was amazing.
A busy busy lady doesn't stop the busy just cause they put her in the hospital. Here she is working on the very cool broach bouquet for my niece's wedding and making very important phone calls.
We were strengthened by faith and we (she) soldiered on. They got all her crazy levels worked back out, and finally sent us home. I had grown fond of the hospital staff and their services. Going home meant that I had to cook again. And clean up after myself. Now I was in charge of her massive pile of meds. Making sure her blood pressure stayed in a very narrow window of not too high and not too low. Making sure she ate and, let me just tell you, a renal diet is NOT easy. Rice, bread and fruit. That is about it, my friends. Try coming up with a creative menu for that.
I was supposed to leave last Saturday, it WAS NOT time for me to go. So, I am on my way home today. A week later than planned. God knows what he is doing. He worked out so many logistics so that I could stay and be there with her. We had an appointment with her oncologist the day before I left. I don’t think we had any idea the hidden anxiety we had going in to that appointment. This doctor was about to tell us her fate. Anyone going through this knows that chemo is a scary treatment option. But when you have so many things going on with your body that chemo could make worse, it is even more unsettling. We wait and wait. As you do at doctors offices the magnitude of MD Anderson Cancer Center. She entered the room. She spoke to us like normal humans of no medical knowledge. She told us about her cancer and what she had, what she DIDN’T have now and she told us…….she did not recommend chemotherapy or radiation for her!!!! Come again?? We just need to hear that again. In her getting-well-process that we know is far from over, we have gotten bad news after bad news. Just when we allowed ourselves to understand the last prognosis, we got more. Who gets a lung infection just before a mastectomy?? Who gets breast cancer while awaiting the kidney transplant team to find her a new organ?? As positive as we were about that particular visit to the oncologist, I had to prepare myself.
Just another day in the life for my sister. This particular blood pressure made her very proud!
I could not have been more relived. We left that clinic, made the 1 hour commute back to her home, making very happy phone calls all the way. Then she and I both fell in the bed and slept. Like rocks. For hours. Guess we were able to rest for the first time.
During our 15 days together we cried ourselves ugly, we laughed till she peed her pants (look, this is the very least of her troubles), we hugged each other so long and so hard I was sure we’d never let go, we traveled many miles between doctors offices and hospitals, we watched bad television that made us feel much better about our own lives, we studied the Bible together, we talked a lot about God and what we thought he would have us understand. I guess we basically had a 15 day sleepover because I never left her. If she is anything like me, she doesn’t like to be alone, especially at times like these. So I just never left.
But, it was time for me to go. I have a lot of hugs to catch up on at home! I was able to leave today on a very happy note. I left her in good hands: her husbands, her daughters, and most of all in Gods gracious hands. She is on her way to doing much better. She has a long road ahead, but she is tough. She has faith. She has me, and I have her.
This same sister has been in the hospital room with me for the birth of all 3 of my children. No matter what was going on in her world, she was there. She has been the voice in my head through choosing my husband, training up my children and lovingly arguing with our mom. In all cases, she has been "right on!” She still whole-heartedly focuses on my niece's wedding planning and home schooling my nephew. (Did I not already mention she home schools too!?!?) Her husband stands beside her every doctor visit and rush to the hospital. Believe me, they are fighting these things together. They are amazing.
I am not sure how much refining fire God can grant one person, but I hope her lesson's are almost learned. I hope that those that God has chosen to teach their lessons to through her journey are getting to their destination. Be sure, we have all learned alot through all of this. God is still so good. She has an amazing positive outlook. Her words to me a few weeks ago..."I am going to come out of this thing on the other side a whole new amazing woman. I will be skinny. And I will have perky new boobs!!"
No spend January…what a bust. It has taken me until March to reveal the very disappointing outcome. The Very Frugal Husband and I agreed, at my suggestion, to have a no spend January this year. This is something we have never done before. I thought the Husband would fall right out of his seat when the surprising recommendation came from my mouth. I must say, as it came out of my mouth the little voice in my brain was wailing, "STOP, don’t you know what you are getting yourself into by saying this out loud where he can hear you!?!?!?" But, being the good wife I attempt to be, I decided to try my hand at helping out his stress-filled-financial-brain once again. It seemed a lovely idea. I knew it would not be fun, it would not be easy, it would probably not be pretty. But I had stocked a pretty good amount of food in the pantry. I had my hair done just before New Years Eve. Certainly, I could go one month without a mani/pedi, a restaurant outing, a visit from my lovely cleaning lady or a massage. No problem. And, I am happy to report that I stayed quite committed to the plan in those departments. I didn’t even visit my chiropractor during January. Although, I am not sure that was such a great idea as I have had to frequent that place ever since.
It is a good idea in theory. After Christmas, funds are tight, so January felt like the right time, and I guess looking back it was a good thing I committed myself to not spend on those extra expenses. But you forget how expensive January can be. It is the time for EVERYTHING to be due. The annoying and dreaded Homeowners Association bill comes in.
Let me just get off subject for a moment on that note. For what we pay our neighborhood should have a pool (both indoor and outdoor), a lavish Clubhouse and impeccable landscaping. At the very least we should have a green area and a park for the kids. Nope! None of those. Apparently we just have a storm water drainage system that, I imagine, must be top of the line as drainage systems go!
Anywho, summer camp registration is due. Enrollment in preschool. Don’t DARE wait until February to secure THAT very very important spot! The sweet little Girl Scouts come selling those decadent cookies that I CANNOT say no to. I believe I even had to pay for Number 1’s dance costume that she will not even be wearing until June. Just to name a few.
So, for those of you that have been wondering how a no spend month went for the Truthful Mommy…it was a bust. We spent a lot. Our rule of only buying milk and bread at the grocery store was broken quickly. Naturally, since the plan was to not spend money at the grocery, I didn’t do any couponing so we ended up spending more than usual. I believe I pulled out my checkbook MORE in January than ever. All this particular month left me with was terribly uncared for feet, a sore back, grimey bathtubs and really dirty floors.
Maybe we will try again sometime, I am not sure. I am sure the Frugal Husband would tell a different story about our no-spend January, but he doesn’t have a blog. So there.
The Husband and I love to do lots of things that are not what you would consider--uncomplicated--with children. We have always had an unspoken pact that we would never give up our “loves” or “doing-what-we-do’s.” Having children would certainly not hinder our fun. The Husband and I love to snowboard. So, we stuck Number 1 in ski school at the age of 2. We love to travel. All of our children have been to more states and on more planes, trains and automobiles than most people have the opportunity to go on their whole lives. Now, at 6, Number 1 shreds the double black diamonds with mommy and daddy like a champ and getting on a plane is as commonplace as riding a bike. This pact the Husband and I have lends itself to some stressful situations, but when I step back and see the big picture it is all worth it.
I will never forget when we flew to Park City, Utah for a snowboarding trip. Baby Girl was only 3 and Number 2 was a newborn. Believe me, Number 2 was VERY difficult as a baby. Cried ALL the time. Pretty much, he cried and screamed until he was 18 months old and then that turned into a communicative whine, which still persists to this day. So…I knew the fact that I would be flying back to North Carolina with the 2 of them by myself because the Husband would stay behind for work, was NOT going to be a vacation. But it would be worth it, right? Snowboarding in one of our very favorite places in the country and visiting with some of our favorite people…totally worth it. The Husband did what he could to get us all set up at the airport. I had Baby in the b’jorn. Ready to go. We walk into the plane, head to find a seat together and baby starts to scream, for no reason, at the first step onto the plane. Really? Already? Oh, the terrified stares from other passengers: “PLEASE don’t sit by me!“ The avoiding glares ahead into nothingness: “Maybe if I don’t look at her and look really busy staring at nothing, she will keep moving.” I know both of those well, I do them too, when I am not traveling with my own miniature crewe. I found my place in the very rear of the plane, hoping that it would be loud enough back there for the crying to be muffled by the engine. And maybe…just maybe…the sound would lull him to sleep. Let me just say, Utah to North Carolina is a very very very long flight! He cried…the whole way. He threw up…everywhere. I paced back and forth the skinny little aisle with him for what seemed like hours. I did all I could do in the small space we had to make it better for him and for everyone else. Sweet Baby Girl was so good. She sat quietly coloring and watching movies on the computer. I yelled at her for every little thing because my nerves where completely shot; she did not deserve it. She was so good. But I couldn’t yell at Number 2, he was a baby…well, and too loud to hear me anyway. So, she got the frustration from Truthful Mommy. And do you know what she said to me when we landed and everything settled down? “You might just be the best mommy ever!” Tears welled up in my eyes, I was so stressed, and so undeserving of her unconditional love. This is what it is all about. So Baby cried. So other passengers where temporarily distracted. So my nerves were stretched to new lengths that day. THIS is what it is all about. My sweet baby girl, there with just the right words to bring me back to my purpose. My kids were safe, we were home, and the week we had in Utah was amazing.
Honestly, the stressful moments are typically forgotten. And for certain they do not hinder us from doing it time and time again. Everytime I am preparing for another trip with the kids where, at some point, I will undoubtedly be flying back with them alone, people ask me, “Didn’t you say you would never do that to yourself again?” Isn’t it funny the things we forget? A bit like childbirth, I suppose. It is the end results and the memories that we make that we talk about for years and cherish.
I am on a flight to Texas as we speak…BY MYSELF…to visit my beautiful sister. I have been looking forward to this trip for weeks. The luxury. To read a book, write some blogs, edit some pictures, have uninterrupted adult time with my sis. No yelling, no fighting at the dinner table, no diapers to change, noses to wipe, whining to nip, other bodies to bathe, nothing for one whole week. But I was walking through the airport in Baltimore and I hear melt-down sized cries from a nearby toddler. Do you know what I was thinking?? NOT, “Ha Ha, better her than me!” Nope, she was a lucky girl. To have that sweet baby to hold and to comfort. Knowing nothing will do but mommy’s hug. And to have the blessing of experiencing whatever adventure they were about to embark upon together. The melt down will stop and the adventure will be amazing.
Don’t let your kids dictate your life. Let them become a part of the wonderful life that you and your husband already have together!! Give them the opportunity to enjoy what you enjoy. It is some of the best advice I can give you.
An undoubtedly smart friend of mine recently posted the following on facebook:
“Did you know that you burn the same amount of calories whether you walk a mile or run a mile? Yep, it just takes longer when you walk. Also did you know 1 glazed Dunkin doughnut has 180 cal, 25g carb,and 8g fat. While a plain bagel with cream cheese has 540 cal, 70 g carb, 13.5g fat. So perhaps the doughnut is the healthier choice! Doughnuts 1, Bagels 0.”
So this inspired me. I am the first to admit that I am inspired by strange things. Had she said, “Running a mile once a month is all you need to be in amazing shape”, would NOT have caught my attention in the least. But throw in an easy task disguised as exercise and promise decadent dessert as an option over something as tasteless as bagels and you have my attention my friend!!
I have never been one to research. Science, biology, politics…just don’t care. I figure I have zero minutes in the day to adopt a new hobby or obsession so it is really for the best that I am just unconcerned. I am super happy that others are in to these affairs and take care of them for me, but I am simply not interested. I generally take the experts word for it and move on. I some how feel that most of us would be better off to know less and trust more. To let more roll off our back. Call me crazy. Any who, back on track…I don’t care if the awesome news in this post is true or not, and I am SURE not going to look in to it. I am just going to go with it. So back to the inspiration part. After months and months of very limited activity that would be considered exercise, I had a great idea. I will take the kids out with my free frosty tickets that I bought back in October to give out for Halloween and just found in my wallet not too long ago, and let that be our doughnut reward. Then Number 1 and I would exercise. She is quite good at riding her bike, so she would ride and I would walk. Her incentive to keep going would be the playground at the end of our venture. Considering that my inspiring post above told me that I could walk, that was my plan. I threw on my tennis shoes and off we went. No other “exercise” precautions were made. No sports bra, nothing. After all, I was going on a walk and that did not seem to require support. It is mid-January so I was not at all expecting or intending to sweat.
We get about half way through our route and we come to a campus near our house with an elementary, middle and high school that are all letting out at the same time we are coming through. That means lots of cars, breaks in the sidewalk and one stressed out mommy with a 6 year old in front of her on a bike. So, in order to keep up and make sure she stays safe, I start running. This was NOT in the plans. There were lots of things bouncing around that were not supposed to be disturbed in this way. Least of which were my super cute dangly earrings that were whipping me in the face. My lovely cute cowl neck top was swaying to and fro. My not-meant-for-running pants were about to fall down (which almost made me feel kinda skinny if it weren’t so annoying) I imagine I was quite a site. I tried to look cool; like I totally meant to be out for a jog with my daughter. Truth was, I couldn’t wait till we got passed the campus so that she was in the clear and I could go back to my initial plan of WALKING.
Be careful when you get inspired. It could lead to a lot more than you bargained for!
I was on the phone with my very concerned father the other day. He said he had been reading my blog and decided it was high-time I wrote something positive. He was concerned you will think I don’t like my life. Seems he has forgotten the gist of this blog. So, in honor of my sweet Daddy, I will remind you that my life is 90% picture perfect and this blog is about the 10% that is….the chaos, the ugly, the mess. However, I told him he must have been thinking on the same wave lengths as me because I was just in the process of typing this….
A few mornings ago, I could tell rather early that it was going to be a very nice and pleasant day at my house. EVERYONE slept in. Number 3 had been waking before 6am every morning for about 4 weeks and that is NOT morning at my house. One of us, usually my amazing husband, would stumble into he kitchen to warm a bottle and he would hush up and go back to sleep, which was lovely. But of course mommy and daddy were up for the duration. It was clearly a growth spurt, as all of a sudden he looks like a little boy and not a baby.
This Truthful Mommy was NOT ready for #3, was not planning on a #3 and was very concerned that this may have been a situation where God slipped up and sent the wrong mommy another. Ok, I know God does not “slip up,” but I was quite sure that God had way more faith in me than He should. Turns out, His plan was right on. Number 3 has completed our family, he is the sweetest little guy, he was a super easy and chill baby and everyone loves him completely. I wanted him to stay tiny forever and, wouldn’t you know, he grew up the fastest. Thus, this new growth spurt makes me very sad. Anyway, back to the sleepy heads…
Number 3 got his early morning bottle as usual, but fell quickly back to sleep as did mommy and daddy!
Number 1 is always the last to wake. Her favorite princess is Sleeping Beauty and I believe there is something to it. She loves to sleep. This particular morning she was the first awake, but it was still after 8am. We make our way downstairs together and hear Number 3 finally stir so we go in to get him.
I start making breakfast, lunches to go, coffee, etc. It seemed the monotony of our morning routine had arrived, regardless of the few extra minutes of sleep. Believe me, a few extra minutes are like gold to me. But here we were, back to normal. Then I noticed the clock said 8:30. I start to panic. WHERE is Number 2, he has to be at school in 30 minutes!!?? This is the little guy that wakes SOOOO early that we had to put a clock in his room at the age of 2 and teach him to read and understand, FULLY, the number 7 so that he would not wake us all up at the crack of dawn. So, for him to not be present in the kitchen at this hour was a call for alarm!
Speaking of alarm.....A few nights ago we heard a weird sound coming from his room around 4 am. It was his alarm! Looks like Mr. Pushy-Button-Number 3 got a hold of it and set the alarm. Daddy heads in there to turn it off and settle him back down. He is scared to death and believes there are now ghosts that live in his clock. The Daddy is not about to take the clock OUT of the room because it has served us well in the morning for many months. Finally, after much consoling and cuddling, I remove the silly clock from his room. It is not worth it. The Husband is not sold. He is sure that we will be seeing him again in an hour with out his trusty number 7 shining from within his clock, that is now unplugged and thrown in the hallway. It went fine.…he actually slept longer!
I rush upstairs to check on his breathing, because isn't that the anxious place mommies always go to when something seems off?? He was fine. He was snoozing soundly and I had to wake him up! This would be a first for Number 2! He tells me that he “slept so good cause his new cool clock makes him sleep great!” Best 6 bucks I ever spent.
So, now we are in a frantic hurry to get him to preschool, but everyone is rested. Included Truthful Mommy. I come home form dropping him off at preschool and Number 1 is watching, yes again, “Jake and the Neverland Pirates.” I hear these rascally pirates in my sleep, so I start singing the part for Izzy and she says, “Mommy you are not Izzy, you are Skully (the parrot)” Oh, I say, I thought I was Mr. Smee?? “No, you can’t be him anymore.” Of course, I must do a little fishing and ask why not. “Because you are not fat anymore.” BEST DAY EVER!!! Doesn’t really matter what else happens today. We are well rested and I am not fat like Mr. Smee any longer!!!
I can vividly remember when I used to dream out loud about being a stay-at home-mommy-without-kids. I could picture myself as one of those ladies that lunch, tennis, sun and country club. I never wanted kids. Really, I didn’t. My good friends that have known me forever laugh every time I mention something that has to do with the plurality of my offspring situation. My life is very much different from my vivid imagination. I do not lunch. I cannot afford it for one, both financially and chronologically. When I do get the opportunity to go out for a lunch, there better be a coupon involved and ALL children must be otherwise occupied. I would rather stay home than take either of the boys into a restaurant at this point. Going to a restaurant with one of my precious little men to catch up with a friend would be completely pointless. There would be no catching up. There would be catching food, catching flying utensils, catching bad manners before others around us noticed. No chatting about life.
I am a stay at home mommy. That is for sure. I stay at home in my pajamas and more days than I like to admit I don’t get out of them until I have to walk to the bus stop at 3:30 to get Number 1. But, I stay at home and work. Not: stay at home and then head to the club (country club, that is). I can’t even convince the Husband to get me a membership at the YMCA, for heavens sake! I have to stay busy doing something that interests me and gets me out of pretend play, so I work since I don’t have the excuse that I must be off to my tennis match. I LOVE my photography business. I get to do what I love, be creative, play and get paid for it. I like my other job too because it gives me interaction with other adults and keeps my resume legit. But, in my dreaming days, my preference would have been to be a lady of leisure, not work and kids.
God has a funny way of giving us exactly what we need. I wasn’t sure about Number 1, then I had her and she became a drug I could not live without, not to mention she was a great way fuel my shopping addiction! Number 2 came along and I am afraid there is going to be a quota on kisses and hugs. He is the snuggliest little guy on the planet and I cannot get enough. Number 3 surprised us all and I was concerned. But he has made my life chaotically complete!! At this point in my journey, I mostly feel like I am still in the refining fire of grace that God promises us in our lives on this planet. But these days my daydreams are about the days when my kids are grown and we celebrate traditions together, when Number 1 and I are best friends planning her wedding, when the boys are towering over me and still cowering to cuddle with their mama. Funny how life changes. Even for those of us that fight it every step of the way. If I had been on my own, I would be an empty shell of selfish bliss in a tennis skirt.
