Mother’s Day

It’s Mother’s Day. I’m writing this while in bed at 8:50 AM. I can’t remember the last time I was still in bed at this time of day. Is it my husband who is hard at work to make this happen for me? Nope, he’s sleeping soundly beside me. This lovely morning is brought to me courtesy of my mother, who is clearly the finest mother who has ever graced this Earth.

If my mother is the standard by which I’m to be measured as a mother, well, let’s just say that it’s a good thing I firmly believe that motherhood is not a competition.

What is clear to me from my mother’s example is that motherhood does not end when one’s children have grown. It simply changes. Somehow, one day I will need to let go enough to allow my children to create their own lives and families. I’ll need to sit back and watch them flourish, make mistakes, suffer heartaches, and flounder. I’ll need to allow all of this but still be nearby enough to catch them should they fall. Thanks, Mom, for your support, the the room to grow you’ve given me, and for the safety net I know is there.

Perhaps the reward for all the hard work we put in while in the trenches of child rearing is Grandmotherhood. Here’s where a mother can become a hero while witnessing the universe provide her children with their just desserts. Is there any one of us who hasn’t wistfully thought of the day when our rotten kids have rotten kids of their own? When that day comes, we can choose to swoop in and save the day like a proper superhero. Finally, our children will recognize our endless hard work on their behalf! Finally we will have children at our disposal to spoil and lavish with love, and then give back to their parents! Thank you, Mom, for being the kind of grandmother that you are. You’re so devoted to my kids and helpful to me.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms out there, especially mine who has given me too may precious gifts to number, including this peaceful morning. May all of your children be happy, quiet, and oddly obedient today!

Ten Things I’m Thankful For

Last year I wrote a post giving thanks and I don’t think I can really top it. I have sworn to try though, because I have to beat JD over at Momagement in her Thanksgiving Thanking Throwdown. (Did you not realize that everything is a competitive sport?) This year I’m doing a list, so may I present:

Top 10 Things I’m Grateful For This Thanksgiving (in no particular order):

  1. I’m grateful for S’s sweetness, easy laughter, and good disposition. Although she never stops talking and rarely has anything remotely interesting to say, I am grateful that she finally learned to talk. And what she says is undeniably cute, at least the first 3000 times she says it.
  2. Although L’s wilfulness can be trying, I am grateful that he has a mind of his own and the wherewithal, intelligence, and gumption to assert himself. I wouldn’t mind it if his assertions weren’t always directly against what I want, but one day this trait will serve him well in the big bad world. So I will try not to beat it out of him. (Kidding, I totally don’t beat him.)
  3. I’m grateful that my kids are still in the cuddly stage. The day they don’t delight in me pretending to eat their toes or ribs will be a sad day indeed. I’m also grateful that they are so darn edibley cute! Even though this is shallow and I’m not supposed to care about it.
  4. I’m grateful that T is the man he is. That he is full of humor and warmth. That he doesn’t think I’m a total bitch. Just a partial bitch. And he likes me anyway.
  5. I’m grateful for the health of my family, and my extended family. It’s all fun and games until someone is sick, and I am hugely thankful that we’re all healthy. Knocking on wood. Seriously grateful.
  6. I would be a sniveling, cowering mess without the support of my parents. Often, I’m a sniveling, cowering mess even with their help, so I can’t imagine how bad it would be if they weren’t a couple of hours away and so willing and able to help with the kids.
  7. I am grateful my kids sleep. I can barely deal with my life as it is and they both are great sleepers. If they weren’t? I shudder to think. S will even tell me it’s time for her to rest and she’ll go upstairs! L takes a little more work, and he’s an early riser, but at least he’s not in my bed. Thank you for sleeping, Kids! And thanks for doing it in your own rooms. I love you dearly, but you are not welcome in my bed.
  8. I’m grateful I have more than I need. So many people are without the basics that they need and I definitely take what I have for granted. I have a home that’s warm, comfortable, and roomy for us. I have enough food at my disposal for us to be selective and choosy. My kids will have schools to attend nearby where they’ll receive excellent educations in a safe environment. We don’t have to toil, carry heavy burdens for miles, expose ourselves to dangerous elements, or go hungry. Ever. Having what I have is a luxury and that’s why I can fritter my days away stressed about being a good mom. I’d have no time for that if I was worried about putting food in my children’s bellies.
  9. I’m grateful that I have this blog. It’s a lifeline for me. I can send my angst, humor, and stress out there and I get back support, laughter and camaraderie. So thank YOU!
  10. Let’s see, I’ve covered the kids, the husband, the family and parents, the serious stuff and the blog. I guess all that’s left is my iPhone. I’m thankful for that. I love that thing.

Happy Thanksgiving! May your cups runneth over and your pants be stretchy!

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A Post About S and Grandpa

S has memorized the How To Be An Annoying Younger Sibling Handbook. Hell, she may have revised the thing, adding new chapters such as “Sitting on Big Brother’s Head – Appropriate Situations to Employ This Most Dangerous Tactic,” and “When Hurting Yourself is Worth it in the Spririt of Getting Big Brother in Trouble,” and “Let’s Make Sure Mom Drinks Tonight.” My sweet little girl pulls hair, claws eyeballs and puts her own fingers into L’s mouth for him to bite. In her defense, she only does this stuff when she’s bored. And she will handle a whole minute of boredom before resorting to these measures.

She’s most bored when L watches TV. This is problematic for me because I plug L into the TV when I have something to do. Like cook dinner, make a phone call, or not kill him. So while I’m super busy cooking, talking on the phone, or not killing, S is in the other room stirring things up. She’s instigating a monster, and she knows it. She will sit on his head, (keep in mind, she’s usually not wearing anything on her bottom half,) pull his hair and claw at his eyes until he retaliates. In his defense, he has a HUGE tolerance for this type of crap. I have seen him watch an entire Wild Kratts with his sister on his head. When he does retaliate though, he does so with gusto. A swift twist, push and throwing maneuver and S is thrown from the couch altogether. He may leave it at that, or he may leap down after her and then the two are a blur of legs and arms as they wrestle it out on the floor.

L weighs 45 lbs. S weighs 23. Fighting is in L’s DNA. S doesn’t stand a chance.

This morning, L is plugged into a movie while I try to pack up all of our stuff as we can finally head home after a week of living with my parents. We have our electricity back and I can’t wait to get back to our normal lives. S does not want to watch a movie. So, naturally, she grabs a handful of eyeball. Like a pitbull, once she’s latched on, nothing can get her off. L is screaming and I’m yanking on S but she’s glued onto that eyeball. I finally free L from her clutches and put S into a time out. She does not stay in time outs so I am re-putting her in the corner again and again and then something strange happened.

A man came in and scooped her up. He gave her a hug and asked her if she will promise to be good. Through pathetic fake tears, she promises. He then releases her back into her freedom. WTF? Who is this man? He looks like my dad, but can’t be.

When I was growing up, my dad was the scary one. When we were naughty we quickly asked our mother, “Please don’t tell dad??” I think he still doesn’t know about the brand new ski jacket I lost in the 5th grade. (Sorry, Dad.) So who’s this softy letting my daughter out of her time out? I could have used this guy 30 years ago.

I guess the moral here is that we all have to wait about 30 years. Then when our terrible children have terrible children of their own, we can do whatever the eff we want. We can be the nice guy if we used to be the mean guy. We can give them Sugar Puff Honey Crack O’s for breakfast and then give them back to their parents. We can babysit and keep them up way past bedtime. All this is to say, that one day, we will have our revenge. Good things come to those who wait.

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