- Usually when I wake up, I will think of something I need to do right away, that I forgot to do the day before. Sometimes I’ll wake up in the wee hours of the morning, stripped from my sleep to go lock a door or start the dryer. I don’t know if it’s just a woman think or not. I can’t imagine the oven still being on, being something strong enough to pull my husband out of sleep. It’s like my mind must be so frazzled at the end of the day that I would forget to take my head to bed with me if it wasn’t attached. Yet after a bit of rest, my brain goes back into over-drive, tasking away. This morning, my first thought was that I didn’t get the baby’s milk out of the freezer to thaw, nor did I put dinner away. I went straight to the kitchen and found the stove clean. The spaghetti was in the fridge, and on the top shelf were four bags of milk thawing. My husband is the ultimate team player, a wonderful partner in life. I made sure I told him later that I noticed what he did, and how much it meant to me. It’s the small things sometimes that show you the most.
- I really haven’t minded the seasonably cool weather. It’s mostly gotten warm enough in the afternoons to spend time outside, but not so warm that you need to be in the water. Chloe has enjoyed it more than anyone, I think. She could spend hours playing in her sandbox. She even planted some plastic flowers in there on Thursday. I saw something on social networking that suggested putting cinnamon in the sand to prevent bugs. I gave it a shot. It certainly smells better. She loves to play with the dog, blow bubbles, and slide. Over the winter, she had forgotten how much fun being outside can be. She is allowed to get dirty, run, and scream; all things that are curtailed inside usually. Now that she’s been reminded of the awesome insanity of outdoor play, she is resistant to anything but. Upon waking she wants to get her shoes on and go outside. Yesterday’s forecast brought with it, cold rain. This was not good. Her two year old mind couldn’t understand not going out there. She understood me when I said it was raining, but didn’t understand why that should matter. My Aunt recently bought her a Dora umbrella, and she thought that was a simple solution to the weather. I saw cold air, muddy puddles, and so many other obstacles. She just looked at me with a furrowed brow, not understanding my Mommy logic. I can understand. I get that way in life too. You can get used to a comfort zone, and when change comes, you’re resistant. Sometimes you just got to realize there’s someone who knows better than you do what is best. Next time I catch myself with a furrowed brow, questioning God, I’ll keep that in mind.
- I think I figured out something about the work day that’s worse for me than walking out the door is. After I got home and had cuddled with my girls, I decided to feed Bailey some cereal. As she sat in the high chair, opening her little mouth as wide as possible, and shaking with excitement over an anticipated bite; I realized it would be time for her to go to bed soon. I was so enjoying caring for her and observing her every move, that the thought that time was short for any more of that today, made me a little sad. I’m glad I only come home late from work twice a week. I’d bawl my eyes out if I missed out on too much of such adorable antics. So, I just did the best with what I had. I rocked her to sleep for a very long time. Even after her eyes were closed, and her suckling had ceased, I rocked some more. I rocked until my tank was full enough to get me to sleep and fortified for tomorrow.
That is all 🙂
- What makes for a bad day? Like, what happens that causes everything to work in concert for a bad day to emerge? What if it’s like a looming manhole with the cover missing. Can you just not see it coming until you’re right up on it, and it’s too late to step to the side? Do you wish bad days came with a do over? Like, maybe the director could yell “cut, take two!” Would you finally learn your lines after you realized you flubbed them up the first time around? What if there was a play-back recording you could watch and see where you went wrong?
- I couldn’t quite understand what was going on with my day! Everything was a big deal. It usually is with a two year old, but double time today. Her “finger hurt!” she cried. It was a tiny paper cut. Her “mouth hurt!” It’s dry lips. Try some Chapstick? “No! It burns!” Everything was worthy of many tears, from her favorite show not being on, to wanting some yogurt. It was like someone suddenly pulled off their anti-depressant and the resultant withdrawals became ever present. Bailey (a normal self-soother) was incapable of being put down. I rocked them at the same time. I loved on them. I got snacks. I found the favorite show on demand. Nothing seemed to make it all okay. What’s the reason? Is there one? I found myself getting very short fused. Ridiculous tears made me want to snap. I raised my voice. Chloe actually told me, “When you get mad, it makes me act bad.” How eye opening is that? Ben asked me this week if I was starting my period! Are my mood, short fuse, or angry reactions the stem of my kids’ bad mood? Good question. I don’t know. There’s no real way to know who slid off the manhole cover, and trying to figure that out could consume you with guilt. I guess the important part is looking at the play-back, and see where you were looking (instead of down) when you fell in.
- So, I did the only thing I knew to do. I prayed. I prayed for God to help me be the mother He wanted me to be. I prayed that He would help me with my temper. If anyone can, it’s Him. I prayed for the Holy Spirit to flood my home with peace, for me, and for the girls. They were as tense as I was! Right after my prayer, I walked back in the room and found Chloe had taken all the laundry I had folded and thrown it on the floor. Deep breath. I corrected her, but I’d like to think I did it with a level head and regular tone of voice. I think I did. That’s the thing about giving your life over to God. He just makes you want to change everything. You don’t want anger, or thoughtless behavior, or anything really that doesn’t reflect an attitude like Jesus. I don’t want to be perfect. I know I can’t be. Only Jesus and Mary Poppins are perfect. I don’t want perfect. I just want a better me. It may not make the bad days go away, but it will help me deal with them better when they do come. So I can’t have a do over, but I can prevent a repeat.
That is all 🙂
- We’ve been gone from home most of the day. We originally headed out for the National Day of Prayer at our local courthouse. It was scheduled 11:45-12:45, right in the meat of the baby’s nap, but I decided to go anyway. I thought it was important, and thought it would also be a good experience for Chloe. I could have prayed from home, but wanted Chloe to see all the people gathered together with one common goal. I’ve never been before, having usually been at work. I was under the impression that it was a come and go thing, rather than a scripted event. Imagine my disappointment when we arrived at 12:15 (with 30 minutes remaining) and heard the amen and watched people scatter just as we were walking up. So, Chloe and I sat on the park bench and I prayed with her. I said my own prayers as I let her run about. As I got up to leave, Chloe made it known that she didn’t want to go. She wanted to climb the courthouse steps. I informed her that I couldn’t with the stroller, and it was time to go. She continued to plead her case, and I ignored her and texted my Dad. So she screamed, “Are you listening to the words coming out of my mouth?!” Hey, that’s my line! I asked her didn’t she want to go get a snow cone, and she replied, “I do, but I just can’t right now. I’m too mad.”
- We ended up staying out and going to visit folks. We eventually made it around to my Dad’s house. After we had been visiting a while, my step mom asked if Chloe could jump on the trampoline. Uh, no! Hello?! I can’t let my precious china doll jump on a big, bad, dangerous, slippery, highly elevated device that throws children to the hard ground where their tiny bones break!!! She told me there was a net around it. Oh… Ok. So, I let her. She offered to take her out there, but after a few minutes (or maybe seconds), I had to go out there so I could watch her. I told my Dad I wanted to see her excited face, which is true, but I also wanted to keep my eyeballs on her. You never know. There could have been a tear in the net. In the end, it seemed pretty safe. My pulse only accelerated when a little 5 year old boy got in there with her. Oh, Lord, he’s being too rough! It took every ounce of me to just stand back and watch, and not make her get out. It’s hard to balance being smartly protective for their safety, and being insanely over-protective for your peace of mind. I’m working on it.
- Sometimes it’s no wonder I live like a hermit. Going places means disrupting schedules! Argh! Help me! I love the baby to take her big nap at the beginning of the day. Everything just flows so smoothly after that. Today, instead of 3-4 hours, she got 30 minutes. Later she took a 15 minute nap on the way to my Dad’s. You see where this is headed. It’s the snowball effect. Exhaustion leads to more exhaustion, fighting naps until a total meltdown is inevitable. Chloe missed nap time too. On our way back home, they both fell asleep. When I got there it was like a scene from Mission Impossible trying to figure out how to make the transfer from car to inside without waking them. I worked on Bailey first. She was asleep in her carrier once inside, but I feared with an empty tummy and no movement, she may wake prematurely. So I made the decision to get her out and feed her. Once back asleep, I’d transfer her to the swing and presto. The best laid plans don’t always go accordingly. Wrong choice. She woke and wouldn’t go back to sleep. It’s going to be a fun night. As the baby cried in the swing, and I attempted to rock Chloe back to sleep, I thought “it’s absolutely insane how much of my time I spend trying to make other people go to sleep for their own good”. I realized that in 3 hours, I would be doing this again, rocking another child to bed. With all the going to sleep, how do we do anything else? Ah, well. It is what it is. Can’t put a positive spin on that one. It’s a job. They need to sleep. I put them to sleep. Being a Mother is a fantastical position in life. I’m taking care of small humans. I may have missed the boat on naps today, but I still think I “totally rock” as Chloe would say.
That is all 😉
- If I were a secret agent, and I had to torture information out of bad guys; I would have plenty of ideas to illicit information. Plenty. One that especially comes to mind would be loading them up in the car with us. Now that warmer weather is coming along, I’m reminded of the temperament of my air conditioning. I don’t mind it so much in the winter. I’m cold natured after all. There seems to be a problem with the control knob. We have either off and sweat like a pig, or there’s arctic blast, where icicles freeze to your eyebrows. I do tell myself to chill out (literally and figuratively), that at least setting four works, even though 1-3 do not. It could not work at all, I realize, but it can get torturous to me. So that my babies don’t broil in the back, I end up with it set at Mach 4 and consequently feel like I’m climbing Mt. Everest in my underwear.
- Aside from the temperature, there’s the constant soundtrack coming from the back speakers. No, I’m not talking about a Disney CD or anything. I mean the audio coming from each carseat. Chloe: I dropped my doll! I dropped my doll!
Bailey is cackling like a madwoman.
Chloe: Bailey. Be quiet. Stop laughing at me!
Bailey screaming happily and laughing boisterously.
Chloe: I want my chocolate milk!
Me: It’s sitting on the kitchen table where you left it.
Chloe: (starts crying). I want my chocolate milk!!
Bailey continues to giggle profusely.
Chloe: Be quiet Bailey! Be quiet Bailey! I want candy. Then I want an icee. I want to go to Walmart. Be quiet Bailey! Momma, her won’t be quiet. Where are you going?
Bailey continues to laugh, punctuated with shrill shrieks.
Any ordinary person not related to my kiddos would either drive an ice pick into their own ear drum, or tell me everything I needed to know.
- In all reality, it wasn’t a torturous ride. It’s always nice to get out. I like to peek in the rear view mirror and smile at Chloe. Today when I did it, she smiled back and said, “I wub you mommy.” Then she looked over at the baby and said, “I wub you Baywee.” I smiled proudly. I’ve had moments like that all day, moments where I couldn’t help but smile. Seeing Chloe dance around outside, with the sun hitting her hair just right. She looked like a wild, unbridled beauty with her bangs flying away from her face. Walking up on Bailey and seeing her so focused on her hand, then saying “hey!”, and watching a grin spread across her face as wide as a river. Even as I swept the floor today, I smiled and told God “I could do this all day.” I love each day, watching my children grow, smile, and learn. I even love all the stuff that comes with it like sweeping up play-doh, making endless snacks, and changing soaked sleepers. I even love carting them into the car, and listening to their endless jabber as I freeze to death. I don’t think it’s torture at all.
That is all 🙂
- Just when you think you’ve got a great sleep pattern implemented in your child, they’ll throw you for a loop. After all, you wouldn’t want to mistakenly take sleep for granted. Babies are really talented at keeping you meek and unassuming. While they keep you on your toes with a patterned sleep schedule, throwing in a monkey wrench just as you think you have it figured out; they also are very tight-lipped when it comes to why. They’re not saying a word when it comes to “why are you suddenly awake at 3 am?!” My own baby woke at 3:30 this morning. She was wide-eyed and giggling as if it were indeed 10 am. I can never get mad at that sweet little laugh. I did put her back to sleep instead of staying awake to chat, though. She was awake again three hours later. She had soaked her diaper and was cold. I could understand that one for sure. Two hours later she was awake again, hungry but unable to nurse due to a severely stuffy nose. Chloe had hidden the nasal aspirator (lest it be used on her), and had taken the good thermometer to play Dr with. I managed to find something I could rig up and cleared Bailey’s nose. No more snot, but lots of drool. Then she pooped through her second change of clothes, all before I had managed to make my delicious friend, coffee. Is she sick? Is it just teething? She’s not telling. I’m planning for poor sleep again tonight, so hopefully she’ll surprise me.
- I was blessed today with visitors, not just one, but two. I enjoy having adult company. I love my children, but it’s nice to talk about stuff other than cheese, Bubble Guppies, and answering never ending whys. I don’t intend to be a hermit, but sometimes it’s just easier that way. It is such a chore to get kids out. It’s not just getting everyone ready and carting them and their bags to and from the vehicle; it’s also the schedule that you must work around to make a trip possible. Has everyone eaten? Has everyone been toileted or changed? When are we gonna nap? If you miss naps, you realize you must be mentally and emotionally prepared for the aftermath that will ensue. I needed to get out today. I got to get an aspirator and thermometer, right? We go outside and walk around the block. I don’t keep the kids locked up or in a dungeon, but some days the jeep just doesn’t leave the driveway. I know this will change as it gets easier. Until then, I’m always grateful to have company.
- Has it ever happened to you? Have you ever experienced that moment when you realize your child is a tyrant?! It happened in my own back yard. A neighborhood kid came over to play. Chloe did not share. That’s pretty typical for two, but she was downright rude. She raised her voice, always wanted to do what he was doing, and would bully him out of the way. In the end, she even tried to push him down the slide, and not in a friendly way. I was so shocked that I couldn’t say anything. As I took her inside, I wondered what I could have or should have done to prevent such behavior. I had never seen her like that with her cousins. The main thing that came to my head was to read the bible with her. I grabbed her children’s bible and we read stories about Jesus. I explained his character in child friendly words, and explained his desire for us to be like him. I applied it to playing with others. The strange thing was, it seemed like she was listening to me. After I finished, she gave me a big hug and said, “I’ll be good Mom.” And so it begins. Pray for me.
That is all 🙂
- Today has felt like an odd day. I’ve felt almost bipolar. I mean no insult to anyone with a mood disorder. I think I could probably be diagnosed with one if I sat on a psychiatrist’s couch long enough. I think we all, especially women, have days where you feel the blues a little more than usual. I think anyone who claims they don’t is either lying or hormonally deficient. I personally can’t stand it. I love joy, embrace it even. So when sadness finds its way into my little world I get perturbed. I almost feel guilty, wondering how a woman so blessed in life can feel down. I understand guilt is just another lie that further drags your mood into the muck, but knowing something doesn’t always prevent it from happening or change the outcome.
- I know a down day pretty quickly. It will usually start with the way I’m seeing myself that day. Maybe you can follow my line of thinking. Some days I wake up and hit the shower, and I think “Dang. I look pretty good today!” The mirror is flattering on those days. You feel certain you’ve probably lost a pound or two, or perhaps that new age-defying moisturizer is finally doing the trick. Other days, you wince when you see your reflection. You feel extra “puffy” and nothing fits right. You try on outfit after outfit, hoping for the right combination, but never finding it. You eventually settle for something that you’ll be self conscious in anyway for the entire day. This is going to be the day that you get bad news by phone. It’s the day nothing will work like it’s supposed to work. You’ll break a nail. The bulb will go out in the fixture that’s hard to reach. You won’t be able to open that jar while cooking dinner. Oh, and it’s definitely gonna be a bad hair day! I hate “don’t work, self critical, blue days”!
- Throughout my blue day, I was bombarded with tiny moments of happiness, working hard to overshadow my sadness. It was like the sun trying to peek out from behind the clouds, and a gentle wind to blow the storm clouds away. I was gifted with moments in time: a tiny bow in my baby’s hair as she smiled with big eyes at me, pushing Chloe in the swing and hearing her giggle with joy, a walk in the neighborhood with my family, a glimpse at my husband when he didn’t know I was looking (he had just shaved and I thought he looked so handsome and young), pulling out baby clothes for Bailey from a bin in the shed and seeing the little outfits my sweet Chloe used to wear, grilling dinner with my man, watching my baby girl play with my first doll (so glad Mom kept it), watching Ben and some neighborhood fellas try their hearts out to pull a broken branch down (comical really), watching the baby kick excitedly in her bath tub, and watching Chloe fall asleep in her towel after her bath (such a fun day she couldn’t even make it in time for me to get pajamas). I gather all these happy thoughts, and something wonderful happens. The clouds do part! I guess some days you just need to reflect on the things that make you smile to chase your frown away.
That is all 🙂
Well, almost all. I will say, that maybe some days that won’t work. Some days just want to be blue. So for those days, don’t give up hope. Continue to reach for your happy thoughts and say a little prayer for strength. Joy comes in the morning.
And that is all 🙂
- I didn’t want to put the baby down this morning. She was getting up to eat at 2:30 most mornings, but has started sleeping through. That means when I wake up for work, she’s still snoozing. I scooped her up and fed her. She ate for about 30 minutes, but never really opened her eyes. Having felt like I just picked her up, when she was done, I didn’t want to put her back down. She looked so sweet sleeping in my lap, and I longed to just keep rocking and holding her. Chloe too, was out like a light. Something about gazing at sleeping children just makes everything seem right with the world. The peace that emanates from them is almost sedating. I wish I could bottle if up and sell it to a pharmaceutical company as a new anti-anxiety drug. I took a picture of Chloe (knowing the flash wouldn’t wake her), and looked at it during the day whenever I felt stressed.
- I got a picture from Ben today of Chloe playing a plastic Dora guitar. I wasn’t surprised a bit. When I got home, I saw she also managed to get a tiny, princess flashlight and some purple, sparkly nail polish. I can’t really say much. I got her a princess cup when I stopped on my way home for diapers (even though she has one zillion cups). We don’t try to spoil her. It just happens. She’s so fun to buy for because she is so appreciative. She has the sweetest “please” and an even sweeter “thank you”. I’m not sure how it will work when a dollar toy isn’t cool anymore.
- I was looking forward to going home all day. It wasn’t that work was bad. It’s just the desire to be home was greater. Ben is off on Sundays, and I want to be with them. Once I got home, I wasn’t disappointed. Ben ordered pizza. That man knows me so well. I worked late, so by the time I got home, Bailey was asleep. Chloe had not napped. I knew she was tired by her reaction after I mildly chastised her for pulling sequins off her curtains by saying “that’s not very nice”. She broke down into heaving sobs. Ben made her lay down, and within minutes, she was out. I left and they were asleep. I get home and they’re asleep. It is peaceful indeed.
That is all 🙂
- I recently came across a house for sale that peaked my interest. While Ben and I aren’t actively looking to move, I think if an opportunity arose to move to a bigger home within our price range, we would take it. We initially chose to downsize our mortgage with the plan for me to spend more time at home. I couldn’t be happier with our choice. As you can tell, I love being a Mother and enjoy spending as much time as possible with my kids. I look back on our situation 2 years ago, and I’m not sure how we made ends meet. It’s only by the grace of God, I’m certain. We always made our bills on time, but had no wiggle room. The decision to sell, while allowing me to just work part-time; it also gave us room to breathe and make smarter financial decisions for our future.
- I’ve been fond of our small house from the moment we first went inside. I felt immediately like it was the home God had for us. Since we’ve moved there, I’ve seen all the hopes and plans we had in mind come to fruition (to include the birth of another child, Bailey). We bought the house realizing that it was small, and would not likely remain our forever home. Sometimes you have pit stops in life, places where God puts you for a season to prepare you for where you’re headed next. We would like another child later down the road, but know we’re at max capacity in our 1200 sq ft as it is. With this in mind, our goal has been to wait patiently for God’s next step for us. I did say goal. That doesn’t mean it’s always easy. I can get frustrated, but I try really hard to rest in all the wonderful things God has been able to bless me with in our current circumstances. I would honestly say, 90% of the time, I want for nothing further that what is in front of me. Ok. When I’m tripping over toys and kids, it’s more like 85%.
- So, back to the house for sale that jumped out at me. I was intrigued. I spoke with Ben and contacted the listing agent for details. The next day the agent called me again to inform me that he had received several calls from other interested buyers, including one ready to make a full offer on the home. As he told me this, I simply smiled. I was a little surprised to discover that I felt no anxiety, worry, or concern of any kind concerning these developments. As I hung up with him I simply prayed, “If it’s your will, then let it work out.” Don’t get me wrong. I don’t just sit on my hands waiting for miracles. I take action, but after prayerful consideration. My point is, it is so wonderful to relax and take comfort in knowing I don’t have to have control over everything. I can instead rest in the one who has all control and a perfect plan for me and mine. If our current station is to continue, I can trust and stay on board with that. If it’s time for a change, I can navigate if easily enough with my Captain in charge.
That is all 🙂
- Am I the only person who watches commercials on TV and cries at them? Today I saw a new one. It showed a Mom brushing her son’s red hair out of his face. Every camera shot showed him older, starting as an infant, and progressing through college. In each shot, the Mom was pushing the hair off his face. I didn’t bawl, but it sufficiently caused me to tear up to the point that a few overflowed. I’ve always been emotional, crying at movies with my Mom when I was younger. It’s really gone into overdrive since I had children. Everything seems so much more vibrant. My little brother and his wife are expecting. I tried today to explain it to him a little, to just give him a glimpse of what he could expect. I don’t think you can do that though. I could take out a pen and paper, a thesaurus, and work all day to try and articulate my thoughts into words, but I don’t think it would suffice.
- I can’t explain to him how having a child can cause your personality to change. It doesn’t just change in big ways. It’s all the tiny changes in you that add up and make the big picture. I remember seeing Ben with his daughter when we were dating. One night we only had a small frozen pizza to share. His daughter had something of her own for dinner, but of course when she saw our pizza, she wanted some. Ben split his portion with her. I remember not really understanding that, and thinking, “No way. I’d make her eat her own dinner.” I told my bro today, “You’ll give your kid the last bite of your favorite meal.” It’s not a big thing, but it shows a piece of the big picture of how you love them. Your ability and capacity to love is changed, stretched, and strengthened beyond any expectation. Things that would normally get on your nerves, become common place. Chloe has started to ask why. She’s been asking why for a while, but recently it’s escalated to asking why continuously throughout the conversation. It’s like a staring contest. She will ask why after each explanation to the point that I eventually run out of answers and end it with “because Mommy said so.” Thankfully I can always win with that one, for now anyway. The point being; it doesn’t really bother me half as much as it would have my former self.
- I tried to explain how having children does something very mystic to the fabric of time. It no longer moves at a logical pace. Instead it zooms by at a break-neck speed. I tried to explain that children grew faster, that your hair grayed quicker, and that even the sun seemed to be a part of the conspiracy, setting just mere hours after it had risen. My baby is trying to crawl. How can it be? Chloe is a little girl now, not a toddler. If he listens like I did when people tried to tell me, then he will end up being surprised at his child’s 1st Birthday, wondering how a newborn is able to get a messy face eating cake. I’m glad I’m here as much as I’m able, painting Chloe’s toenails and seeing Bailey reach for a toy. I’m grateful that God brought me to this place and time in my life. I love each little change in me that He brings with it. Brother, you are entering a transformational time. Enjoy.
That is all 🙂
- Patience is a virtue. Isn’t that what they always say? I do believe it’s a gift once obtained, and can easily be lost if not constantly utilized. Today has been a struggle with patience for me. It started with my darling baby waking at 6 am. I had not gone to bed until 1:30 am, and that’s my fault, not hers, but I was still aggravated. I couldn’t be too aggravated with her because she just wanted to socialize. I attempted to tell her how sleepy I was, but she just sat there talking to her feet. She would occasionally punctuate her monologue with poots and giggles, but otherwise she was very focused on the treasure she found at the end of her legs. I never could really get her back to sleep, so our day has been a snowball affect of exhaustion. Normally a baby who can self entertain, today she has whined to be held constantly.
- It’s not too difficult to be patient with the baby since she’s so adorable. Once I got my coffee, I was fine. My real struggle lies with not being able to get something to work. I don’t know why, but I go crazy when something doesn’t operate for me like I know it should. I hate that I loose my patience, but I do! This morning Ben left for work and forgot his phone. I went to grab mine and couldn’t find it anywhere! Fine, I’ll call it, I thought. I grabbed my husband’s phone and realized I didn’t know his passcode. I’m sure he told me at some point, I just never had the need to use it. I tried a couple of important dates, but after a 2nd miss, I feared locking up his phone. No problem. I’ll use the house phone, I thought. That’s when I discovered it had not been plugged up since Ben moved the computer. It had been plugged into the modem. No wonder the telemarketers had left us alone. I then realized I didn’t know where the phone jack was. There I am running through the house trying to find a phone jack in every room, and not having any luck with a dial tone when I eventually do. It’s as I hear myself say “I’m glad this isn’t an emergency!!”, and hear Chloe say “What’s wrong Mommy? Don’t cry!”, that I realize I’m responding irrationally to something that is not important. Later in the day, I decided to go somewhere. It was then that I realized I needed to put the cover back on Chloe’s carseat. She had gotten carsick and I had to wash it. On a side note, vomited chocolate milk is not cool. Back to the seat, I had never washed it before. Don’t judge. I was overwhelmed at the thought of it, and no wonder. As I went to put it back on, I felt like I was in another dimension. The back of that seat didn’t look anything like I remembered when I removed the cover. Well, naturally, I couldn’t find the instruction manual. I found the one to my fondue pot, right next to the one for my power drill, but no carseat manual. I called Ben, at work, asking if he knew its whereabouts. He didn’t know its location. I explained to him that I must be an idiot since I couldn’t figure it out! After I hung up, I realized how silly I sounded. I googled the manual and figured it out pretty quickly. I texted Ben to apologize, and he responded “It’s ok. I understand. You needed to vent.” Sorry ladies. He’s mine and you can’t have him. His understanding didn’t help me feel any better about being a lunatic.
- A friend texted me today and asked how we were doing. I responded, “We’re good. Just playing and growing.” Such true words. The girls are, of course, growing and playing, but so am I. I’m playing, or in other words, I’m loving playing with my kids and enjoying every single moment. I’m growing everyday. Every single day, God is showing me something new through my kids, and teaching me new lessons as I raise them. Having children is a constant lesson in patience. It’s not just patience for your children, but the way being busy parenting can make you feel rushed and overwhelmed with menial, everyday tasks. This is where He teaches you, right in the thick of it. Patience is a virtue, one that I’m striving to attain and maintain.
That is all 🙂