Evidence

I came across this recently.  It's an article encouraging mothers to photograph themselves with their children using a timer and something as simple as a stack of books (or if you're feeling fancy, a tripod). 

Because, let's face it, we mommas are almost always BEHIND the camera, right?  Capturing the lives OF our families, but rarely moments WITH our families.  The sample photographs accompanying the article were just beautiful - mothers crading their babies in the soft light of a window,  mothers playing board games with their laughing toddlers.

I was inspired.

So today I stacked up some cookbooks, set the timer, and photographed a typical 15 minute period in my life: the first 15 minutes of dinner preparation.

Sadly, my shots did not end up being nearly as poignant as the ones on the photography blog, but I'm still glad I did it.

Because it's proof: I was here!

No Agenda

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I recently read something on Hollywood Housewife.  The blog's author, Laura,  quoted a phrase uttered by her mother: "Taking care of children is a joy as long as you don't have anything else on your agenda."

Huh.  Interesting.

When I read it a few days ago, it left an impression, and as time has passed my mind keeps circling back to that thought - that being WITH our children is truly lovely so long as we're not also trying to do SOMETHING ELSE.  Something else like laundry and cleaning and cooking and, you know TAKING A GOSHDANG SHOWER.  As soon as I attempt any sort of multitasking, my patience starts to wear with my children.  I can't stop and listen to a story about the virtues of a green light saber as compared to a red one when I am also trying to vacum.  OR PEE.

(Why can't mommy just pee in peace? Whyeeee?)

And here's the deal: LIFE has to happen.  Let's face it, moms HAVE AN AGENDA (that sometimes does not coincide with mothering).  And all of this is fine really, because we have to do LIFE at the same time as we're parenting.  Not only because the clothes are not going to was themselves, but because children NEED to learn that they must wait, they must be patient.  That they are not the center of the universe.  I know all of this.

But until recently, I was trying to cater to my own agenda while also homeschooling William.  I would intentionally put off ironing and laundry and kitchen cleaning until Tuesday because Tuesday is the day that William spends perched on a stool in the kitchen doing his work.  I figured if I was going to be stuck in the house all day - stuck in the kitchen specifically - I might as well get something done while he works, right?

Except that's not really how it worked. 

I would be in the laundry room folding clothes and he'd holler out with a question.  Or I'd be up to my elbows in dirty dishes when he'd ask me to look over his lesson.  I found myself becoming frustrated - I didn't want my Very Important Work to be interrupted by (vastly more important) school questions.

So today (inspired by Laura's momma) I quit.  Just quit.  I gave up my agenda.  I decided that I would do nothing too involved so that I could easily (and cheerfully) stop and help William when he needed it.  Instead, I did MY work during William's many "breaks" (the boy takes a break every hour to jump on the trampoline... don't ask,). 

And guess what?  We BOTH finished our work today.  Finished it just fine.  Only today, everyone was happy and cheerful. 

I suppose Laura's mom was right, parenting really IS easier when you (pretend that you) don't have anything else to do.

Well Hasn't Everyone?

::source::

First of all, there is absolutely NO WAY I'm going to do this story justice.  But here we go:

This weekend, while driving in the car with family and friends, my kid pipes up with one of those Kid Questions.  You know the type.  Like "how many people have done a back flip on the moon?" or "what would kill you faster, lava or bullets?". 

Kid Questions are maddening because they come out of nowhere and have no real answer. 

So William (my 7 year old) says LOUDLY "Momma, have you ever pooped in your pants?".  And of course I said no.  Not since I was wearing diapers.  Most everyone else in the car giggled.

And this is where it gets interesting.

Because someone - a friend who will forever and ever remain nameless* - snaps his head around from the front seat and says "really? NEVER? not ever?"

To which I replied "um, no... have YOU?"

And it appears that yes, this man, this GROWN man admitted IN FRONT OF MIXED COMPANY that he has indeed RECENTLY pooped his undies.

After I stopped laughing, I said what we all would say "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?", and also "HOW???"

Apparently, this friend had lived his entire life hearing people exclaim (after a horrible bout with a stomach virus) that "it" was "coming out both ends".  But what he didn't realize was that they meant "it" was coming out both ends AT THE SAME TIME.  I'm serious.  He had no idea.

He found out the very hard way recently when he was hit with a stomach virus of his own.  The poor soul was busy with his FRONT end over the potty vomiting when his BACK end decided (SUDDENLY and WITHOUT WARNING) to join in the action.

Poor friend.

So, fast forward to 10pm last night.  I'm drifting off to sleep when I hear Dave's voice whisper out of the darkness "So, uh, Jimmy* shit his pants".

Hoooo boy I like to never got to sleep, what with all that giggling.

Because, as sad as it is, you have to admit, it's also awfully funny.


*Don't even TRY to make me tell you who it is.  I won't.  Not ever.  I know you're thinking you'll get me drunk someday and I'll let it slip, but NOT EVEN THEN.

What it's All About

So thankful for family this weekend.

After recent health scares, I'm just so glad we could be together.

I'm Thinking of Clubbing Her Over the Head

peekaboo

Have you ever had something going on - something that is so very awful - that you refuse to speak of it?  Because you rationalize that if you actually speak the words it will become more true. More real.

Which is why I am terrified to say what I am about to say.  But here it is: the baby has dropped her nap.

NOOOOOOOO!  Say it isn't SOOOOO!

I've been in denial for a month.  Telling myself that she's just going through a phase.  Yes! A phase! That's all! That if I kept putting her down like I always do, at 1pm, that she would eventually get back into the habit of drifting peacefully off to sleep.

But it's been a month now.  A month of putting her down and listening to her - sometimes for an hour - sing and play in her bed.

I think it's official.  She's done.

Folks, this is entirely new territory for me.  I had to gently ease William out of his nap when he started all-day Kindergarten (at the age of SIX. SIX!).  The boy was a champion napper. 

Paige? Not so much.

So what do I do now? Do I just run her all day long?  Is this what you do? And what about this "quiet time".  What *is* this "quiet time" I hear other mothers speak of? Do you put the child in their bed and just make them stay there?  For how long?  Do they get to read a book or is it lights out? 

Halp!

I'll Have What She's Having

So I splurged and took my kids to a Real Live Restaurant today.  Not because they were being particularly good, but because (1) I had a craving for Mexican food and (2) we desperately needed an excuse to leave the house.

So the waitress comes over and asks the children what they'd like to drink.  And my 3 year old (without the slightest hesitation) yells "I'LL HAVE A BEER!" while pumping her wee little fist in the air.

Mommy's little lush

I... just... I don't even know what to say.

First of all, we never (NEVER!) order alcohol in a restaurant. No really! It costs too much.  Instead, we get really drunk in the privacy of our own home for a fraction of the price. (KIDDING!  We aren't really big drinkers).  And secondly, I didn't know know that Paige was even aware of the EXISTENCE of beer.  Much less that it is a DRINK that can be (LOUDLY!) ordered from a waitress.

And yet. 

She somehow managed to both embarrassed the hell out of me AND achieve perfect comedic timing.

I should have let her order that beer, because after that? I needed one.

A few weeks ago Susan sweet talked me into driving her to Tulsa so that she could run her very first half marathon.  Tulsa is 90 miles away, and she worried that driving herself home after running a ridiculous distance the race would be difficult.  Plus, I travel to Tulsa often, so I know my way around.

So I drove Susan to Tulsa yesterday and promptly got us lost. TWICE.

To Susan's credit, she never once tried to strangle me or leave me by the side of the highway!

Why yes,  I *did* make her a sign and hang it over the toilet.