- Confessions of a Supposedly Super Mom: My toddler is often up at night past 10 pm. I’m sure an earlier bedtime would be more appropriate, but she enjoys time with her Daddy, and it’s not worth the battle. Both my children sleep in the bed with me. If it’s lazy of me to just roll over and feed my baby, instead of getting up and sleepwalking through the house to do it; then color me lazy! I love it. Unless we have somewhere to go, we’re usually still in our pajamas at lunch time. I am borderline obsessed with sweeping my hardwood floors. I walk around barefoot, and can’t stand stepping on debris. I consistently allow Chloe to play outside in sprinklers, muddy puddles, and sandboxes because she loves it. This means I spend a lot of my time sweeping, but I can’t stop. Yesterday Chloe dropped her popsicle on the ground. I told her to wipe it off and go ahead and eat it, that it would be fine. My kids always have cute stylish clothes on, procured from yard sales, thrift stores, and clearance racks at Walmart. Last night I was eating ice cream (yes, at 10 pm). I stopped mid snack and picked a large booger from Chloe’s nose. I wiped it on a tissue, then continued to eat my ice cream without a thought about it. I say fantastically profound things to my child, like “You better close that umbrella before I rain on your butt!”
- Confessions of a Smiling Woman: A woman’s mind is an intricate machine, that is little understood and more complex than nanotechnology. A woman can project a beautifully radiant smile to all around her, while a view inside would show tears that steadily fell from her eyes. A woman is her own worst enemy the majority of the time. I often look in the mirror and border on hating what I see. I see the extra weight from childbirth, and instead of wearing it like a badge of honor, I see it as a scarlet A. I see women on TV and in magazines and think that is what I should be. Every picture that is taken, is later viewed with scrutiny. Instead of seeing a smile, a memory made of a time of true joy, I focus in on excess midsection or split ends. When I see my own reflection, some days the new wrinkles make me smile with the contentment of a life well lived thus far. Other days, my worst critic, myself, will rear her ugly head of self mockery. She will point out each flaw, and leave me feeling deflated. It’s at these times, when a kind compliment by my spouse does more than he will ever know. This same queen of judgement over physical attributes, will sometimes creep in to critique how I see myself as a wife and mother. She is usually ignored, but occasionally brings her downer attitude to my party. It’s an internal battle to love self as Christ loves you, rather than believe the falsity of self doubt. A woman’s smile can often be her shield. I am reminded of Smoky Robinson’s “Track of My Tears”.
- Confessions of a Hurried Housewife: I haven’t really dusted in years. I take full advantage of the swiffer duster. I mutter angry things under my breath about my husband and children when I sort laundry. My husband tells me he likes me without make up, yet even if I’m not going anywhere, I put it on so I’ll look pretty for him. My husband likes to crawl into a freshly made bed at night. I don’t have to make the bed for him, but I choose to because he likes it. I usually don’t get around to making it until about 1/2 hour before he gets home that night, around 8:30 pm or so. While it’s rare, I sometimes wish it was just me and the cat again, sitting on the sofa reading a novel. I try not to base so much on it, but I love when my family makes a happy plate of what I cooked. On the other hand, it also frustrates me when they don’t seem to eat any of it at all. I am still engaged in an epic battle between my desire for a shining, white porcelain sink and our arch nemesis, Ben’s beard trimmings. I can not for the life of me get everything I need from the store in one trip. Wednesday I went for creamer and chocolate milk. Yesterday I realized I needed diapers. Today I had to go get chicken nuggets and coffee. When I got home with 3 bags of stuff, I realized I forgot the coffee. I could go on like this for days, but I won’t. Maybe I’ll just make a part 2.
That is all 🙂