Wipeout

Ever have a Friday that ends up feeling more like a Monday? 

Yesterday, I began the morning by burning the last two remaining slices of bacon for Noah's breakfast.  Yup, that's right, the kid who once only preferred Star Wars smells, now not only likes, but thanks God for processed pork during our dinnertime prayers.  Somehow I was able to convince him that it was just extra crispy.  After getting him off to camp, I was then left to deal with the rats nest of tangles that make a home atop Natalie's head every morning -- no matter how much conditioner, detangler and leave-in tonic I apply the night before.  I've been trying to convince her to cut her waist-length mane, but her reply is always the same, "No, I want to be like Tangled."  Indeed.  

Natalie's camp was meeting at our community pool, or so I thought.  We arrived to find the place deserted. Darn it.  

"Natalie, I thought you said they were meeting at the pool?"  

"Oh!  That's right.  We're meeting at camp.  Today is red day, I need to wear a red shirt," said the girl with a wardrobe of pink and purple.  

"Natalie, I don't think you own anything red." I replied.  

"I know!  I'll wear Noah's Cardinal shirt," announced Natalie. 

So, we drove back home, and got her changed into Noah's shirt and cinched it with a scrunchie so that she didn't look as though she were pant-less. We got back in the car and drove to the park.  Immediately I could see the place was packed with kids running around.  I started to breathe a sigh of relief, until I noticed that all of them were wearing swimsuits!  What the heck?  

"Natalie, I thought you said today was red day?"  

"Oh, wait!  That was Thursday!  The day I missed," she explained.  
 
When I couldn't find Natalie's group, I asked some of the kids milling about the playground what they had planned for the day.  I learned they were having a water play day and would be sliding down a big, hand-made slip n'slide. 

Fantastic.

Natalie and I once again got back into the car and drove home to change.  Talk about your deja vu! After helping her into her suit, we headed off once again to find her group.  We were told we would find them at the "big hill" next to the city center.  When we'd reached our final destination Natalie announced, "I'm a late mess!" My feelings exactly.  Thankfully, my boss was understanding and even with the morning's obstacle course of events, I was only 20 minutes late. Hmmm...maybe I should consider training for ABC's show, "Wipeout".

Motherhood Is

Happy Mother’s Day Weekend!

Yes, you read that right – WEEKEND.  Mother’s Day has officially been extended to include three days and two nights of… foot-resting and bonbon eating.  I’ve heard they’ve even passed a law making it illegal for Moms to lift a finger during this time.

I don’t know about you, but my weekend is off to an amazing start.  My 5 year old daughter just announced, “Mom, you’ve got a big butt.”  This was followed by, “Why do you have a big butt?”  I don’t know.  I think the bigger question is why did I teach my kids to speak?

Below is a poem I wrote last month for a contest Stephanie Nielson, author of “Heaven Is Here”, was running on her blog.  She is an amazing lady and a survivor of a near-death, plane crash in which 80% of her body was burned. Visit her blog here.

Motherhood is…         

The moment the plus sign appears
I’m positively thrilled to get the job
Putting all my dreams into one basket
A being small enough to live comfortably on the end of a pin
has already taken over all the space in my heart.
The first time I laid eyes on your water-logged skin
I’m struck with ignorance and awe
Where did you come from?
A crimson-faced squeal
My world has grown to fit perfectly into the palm of my hand
You take in air without me now
While I imagine I no longer can without you
At the forefront; a tether of primal needs
Diurnal living replaced with nocturnal survival
I’d trade in my Honda for eight hours of uninterrupted zzz’s
As you outgrow your onsies and toddle into your two’sies;
The real marathon begins
A tot tornado has touched down in the living room
De-shelved books, Crayola décor
I follow the trail of toilet paper that snakes through the house
The pint-sized pillager apprehended and sentenced to time out
As your vocabulary grows, so does your will
Dinner time, bath time and toilet time become our battlegrounds
Sharing my belief that green beans are really just green french fries is futile
Potty parties, treasure chests, a new car!
Instead, you prefer plastic and polymer crystals
Soon you are ready for preschool
Your circle expands to include teachers and friends
Gratefully, I still hold a place in your ring.
And, I don’t mind wearing Blue Light specials so you may arabesque in Twinkle Toes.
Most days your speech is dominated by questions
An average of 473 a day
Why is the sky blue?
How did that baby get inside her tummy?
What does it feel like to be awesome?
In a blink, you no longer need help tying your shoes
Reading and telling time are no longer a mystery
As you enter the halls of junior high
I must remain in my car
Parental PDA could send you to the ER
You assure me your homework is finished
My words go in one ear and deafly soar out to a galaxy far far away
Questions are few now
It seems you have all the answers
Your world is quite crowded.
There’s only room enough for my baby toe to fit
I pray I filled your well deep enough;
that you won’t accept contaminated resources from those seeking to drain your pool.
I look forward to the day when I’m no longer dumb
While I wait, I learn to cha cha and how to speak Chinese
The phone rings and I discover;
my IQ now ranks genius
The caller has but one question for me
Mom, can you babysit?