The Man of the Ouch

Just before leaving my husband had the talk with our seven year old about being the "Man of the House" with our three year old listening intently as well. Their eyes inquisitive and brows twitching they soaked up every word. As he explained that he would be gone for a long time you could see the gears turning with questions ready to fly. "Well, how long is a long time?" "So, will you be back for my birthday?" "Will you be able to watch TV?" "Do they have phones there?" Answers to these questions were just not enough for these heartbroken boys. Their daddy was leaving and no matter what spin you tried to put on it - the outlook still didn't seem good enough to them. But nonetheless, Daddy was determined to leave with no tears. Quite an impossible feat when there is an emotionally stressed mother involved. So, the day came that Daddy had to leave and Mommy was, like predicted, very emotional. Our seven year old quietly walks over and puts his arm around me stating, "It's okay Mom, I'm the Man of the House and I'll take care of you while Daddy is gone." Without missing a beat, our three year old pipes in, "I da Man of the "Ouch" too Mom, I'll take care of your bo-bo."

Back to the Real World

Our vacation is over and it is time to come back to reality. We had an awesome time and the kids thought it was the best camp ever. I actually made t-shirts to go along with our camp theme. Seth(ocrates) wanted to make pants to match and when I said I didn't think I could do that he responded, "Of course you can Mom, Chicken Little did it. Just go get some paper and fold it. Play it real slow and copy what he is doing." You have to see Chicken Little to know what he's talking about. Anyhow, the trip was great, we made lots of crafts and I was able to scrap 10 pages. I cooked everyday (what a miracle, as my husband would say) and I actually tried to cook a shrimp and okra gumbo and no one vomited. So, I guess you can say that it came out okay. We did our own camp songs, ghost stories, and a glo-stick adventure which turned into Glo-stick Karate. We had our wonderful cousin Brit with us who was such a big help. I actually teared up when she left, leaving me to fend for myself in the land of motherhood. For those who don't know, My hubby will be leaving soon to stay and work in another state for 6 months. So, when some of these posts get a little psychotic please give me support and pray that there is some sort of medication to get me through :)

Whaddaya Lookin' At?

I'm not the perfect Mom. And no I didn't just realize this. But apparently most of the world is unaware that I will not be the perfect Mom, nor will I pretend to be just so they can get through a baseball game or practice in peace without hearing my Hunter Bunter crying for mercy. I wonder where people get balls from? No, I don't mean the ones that are thrown or kicked in a game. The ones that people have who can just come up to you like they have known you for 30 years, since you were in diapers, and just ask you, "Do you think he'll have a better day today?" Okay, maybe I'm just a being a tad bit of a witch here, but please don't ask me to start predicting the future of my child. (I can't even predict the future of my checkbook sometimes) If I knew he was going to have a bad day do you think I would have brought him to the baseball field with two other children by myself right at supper time to be stared down by what seems to be a million "perfect Moms" and have them whisper, "Oh, he's always like that." "You should have seen what he did the last time. This is pretty good in comparison." But, instead of saying what I want to say, I say instead, "I guess we'll see." And when he throws his glove or slaps me in the stomach or stubbornly says, "I don't wanna play no more," I gently pick him up and carry him off to my less than perfect world. I believe my son is misjudged and misunderstood, which I'm guilty of at times, but all the same he captures the attention of hundreds of people (hey someday that might pay off with a big check) but alas as I'm dragging him off the field or dodging the bat I don't question whether something is wrong with him, I focus on what's right. Sometimes, his behavior gets the best of me, but if I ever saw a parent involved in a similar situation I wouldn't ask, "Do you think something is wrong with him?" Of course, something is wrong with him what kind of stupid question is that. He's crying, that usually tells you something is wrong. Instead, I would mind my own business and say a little prayer for her. Okay, now that I got that out I feel better.

Turning Into Your Mother at Age 3

My sister shared this story with me today, I thought this was hilarious and it had me in tears. Kyla (3 years old): "Mom can I have some water?" (before going to bed) My sister: "No, Kyla you'll wet the bed." Kyla: "Please Mom, I won't Pee-pee." (insisting for what seemed to be hours) My sister: "ALRIGHT!!!" (finally giving up in desperation for sleep and not waking her other child - hands her the water). Kyla: "Now was that so hard Mommy?"