Remember When...

Parenting goals have been on my mind a lot lately.  My children's rapid maturity shocks me and often I think,

“Weren’t you just born? How are you so grown up already?” 

The time has surely flown by and just like you, I  wonder how to make the best of these long days but short years. 

Today, after cleaning out multiple closets and coming to the realization that I couldn't look at one more closet without going crazy, The Baby (who’s not really a baby at nearly four years old) hopped in the car and went to grab a few groceries. Then we spotted our favorite sweet spot-Dunkin’ Donuts and had to stop. She smiled ear to ear when her eyes caught sight of that large pink donut and giggled as she sank her teeth into its’ sugary goodness. Seeing her so happy made me miss the other two children at school.  I made a quick decision and asked,

“How ‘bout we pick your brother and sister up from school a little early and head to the park?”

Her tiny hands flew up toward her cheeks and said, ”Oh yes Mommy. I miss them. Let’s go!” 

Probably not the most sound parental decision I’ve ever made but that's what we did. Twenty minutes before the last bell would ring seemed alright this one time. And boy were they surprised. They played on the slides and climbed the play set until they were red faced and ready to go home.

As I sat on the bench watching them play, two words crossed my mind, "Remember when?” You know, as parents we often mess up ourselves. We do the best we can but sometimes we wake up grouchy, we let our anger get the best of us, we fight with our spouse. Basically, we sin. But to keep us on track, our goal should be that our children grow up saying, “Remember when?"  And not, “Remember when mommy and daddy messed up (insert negative behavior). Their memories should be so full of positive thoughts that the good outweigh the bad. Such positive memories that when they become parents themselves they’ll think, “I remember when Mom showed up at school 20 minutes early just to take us to a park. Gosh, she sure did love us.”  They'll pull into their own children's school parking lot and decide to repeat the memory once more.

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“Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:” 

Proverbs 31:28

Thumbs up...or pointer fingers. Whatever works ; )

It was PJ Day at school!

All the happiness in the world with this one!

Sugary goodness and sweet smiles.

Remember when...

You May Not Have Candy for Lunch

Being three is so hard. Okay, I’m not gonna lie. It’s really hard for me. Three is a transitional age. Three year olds begin to lose their babyness and want more autonomy. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard her determined voice say,”I can do it myself.”

It’s an age of frustration when she can’t get her way ALL the time. “No you may not have ice cream for breakfast.” And without fail, there are the tears...the big crocodile tears that dramatically declare,"My life is horrible!"

But it’s also the age of distraction; when I can outsmart her by quickly picking her up to say, "Hey come look at this cool thing.” Or, “Let me tell you a secret.” Like I've just performed a miracle, the tears shut off immediately and curiosity ensues.

But my most favorite quality about my three year old is that she still needs a lot of love. She’ll curl up on the couch with me and fall fast asleep in my arms. I’ll kiss the top of her head and whisper a praise of thankfulness for this beautiful blessing. Her eyes will flutter open and then she'll wrap her arms around me and say,”I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck." My heart swells.

Then with wonder in her eyes followed by a few batting eye lashes she’ll say,”Momma can I pweeze have candy for lunch.” And well, you get where I’m going with this. The battle continues as I begrudgingly have to say, “I love you sweet baby but no, you may NOT have candy for lunch.”

The One Prayer You Should Say for Your Children

I walked into his dimly lit room before going to bed. He was fast asleep but moved his body as I entered the room. I noticed the red and white Cars sheets and remembered how much he had begged us for them at Christmas. Ever so quietly, I bent down to kiss his forehead and immediately smelled a familiar and comforting scent. Even at four years old, he had his daddy’s scent.

“A little man already,” I thought as I brushed his hair with my hand.

I longingly tried remembering his birth, his little hands and feet. But it all was becoming  a distant memory. However, the one memory that hadn’t escaped me was the laughter, my laughter. My son’s birth was the fastest and easiest of all three children.  I remember the doctor rushing in and telling me to push. One push, maybe two and he was born! They laid my son on my chest and I laughed with complete joy. So quick, so fast. Some would say a foreshadowing of his future, as my little boy has been quick and fast since the moment he realized what his legs were for.

Now looking at my son, I wished to go back in time for just a couple minutes, I prayed.

“Lord God, I thank you for my little boy. He is growing up so fast! It’s hard to see him grow up when I so badly want to keep him small forever. But I know it’s all a part of your plan. Help him, God. Help him grow to be a man that follows after you. A gentle man, a kind man, a strong man. I know one day he will love someone more than me. But right now God, that’s so hard for me to imagine. Nevertheless,  I pray that when he’s older—much older, you bring a Godly woman into his life. I pray that she will love him as much as I do...”

My prayer faded as I thought on another woman loving my son as much as I do! And then a thought crossed my mind. My dear sweet mother-in-law loved her son deeply and at one time prayed the same prayer that I was doing right now. My heart softened as I thought of her with Dale. He was her precious boy. Did she wonder who he would marry? How did her heart feel when we started dating at  only 16 years old? When he went to college, did her heart ache to see him leave? And when I walked down the aisle to her son, did she pray that I would treat him well?

“No God. I pray that when the time is right, You will pick a Godly woman to love my son with the deep love only shared by a husband and a wife. I pray that  right now you are molding her into a strong capable woman. A woman that follows after your heart. A woman that will deeply love my son. A woman that will find complete joy in being his wife....Amen.”

That prayer was hard to pray but so necessary. Mommas, if we truly love our children we will pray for them now and for their future. Yes, it’s hard to see them grow up; especially when our memories of their smallness often fade. But they aren’t truly ours. Their God’s. Our children deserve our selfless prayers because ultimately they will spend more time on this Earth loving a spouse than living in our homes. Wouldn’t you want the very best for them?

This doesn’t only apply to boys but girls as well! I can recall many conversations with my mother telling me how much she prayed for my future spouse. So when it comes to your girls, pray that the hand of God lead their spouse in a mighty way. Pray that they know selfless love and that they  understand the mercy of God, because knowing God’s Love means knowing how to  love unconditionally. And when their marriages go through tough moments, they will hold on tight because their faith in God will pull them through it.

I gave my son a gentle hug one more time and then shut his door quietly. The first of many prayers. As I exhaled softly, I walked to my room and reminded myself to call two special women in my life—my mother-in-law, Shelia and my mother, Sandy.  I am forever grateful for these two women who selflessly gave their time, love and prayers  to their children. Without their Godly example, we may never have found one another. And so I will continue in their own footsteps, praying for the little lives God has entrusted me with.

Cherishing Mom

Today was a beautiful day. I woke up feeling rested and excited to attend a weekly Bible Study on the book of Isaiah. The kids were well behaved and did everything asked of them. “Put your shoes on, walk to the car, make sure to buckle up. I don’t want to be late,” I recited as I do every morning.. But this morning, unlike most mornings, they listened obediently. It had to be one of God’s little blessing for me that day. I dropped the middle child off at preschool and the youngest and I drove to church. She was unusually quiet, looking at the pictures in a Thomas and Friends book. So I turned on my audiobook and enjoyed the sound of being read to.

At church, I grabbed a cup of Earl Grey tea with the tiniest splash of half and half. Pouring the milk reminded me of the first time I had drank tea like this. A kind friend had shown me how to make it with milk and it seemed to comfort my spirit. Swishing my drink around now, I walked to my table and began conversing over breakfast with the ladies. We discussed the usual, “How’d your morning go,” conversation and then it was time for the speaker to begin.

Now sitting in the soft padded chair of a large auditorium, I took notice of everyone around me (as I often do) and fired up my Bible app. The speaker was doing an awesome job of explaining Isaiah 61.

“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, for the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to proclaim that captives will be released and prisoners will be freed.”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭61:1‬ ‭NLT‬‬

She explained that Isaiah was actually talking about Jesus. He is the anointed one. “Hmm,” I thought. “I would have never thought he was referencing Jesus.” But her message of truth was powerful.

About middle way through, I needed to use the restroom. That wonderful cup of tea was pleasant for a time but now I struggled with the idea of having to leave in front of everyone. I hate leaving while someone is speaking, don't you!  And everyone has to do that awkward shuffling of the legs thing so I could actually get out. I tried waiting. But it was impossible. So sighing in my head, I got up and left.

When I returned, I chose to sit on the end of the aisle as not be rude and ask everyone to move again. I opened up my Bible app and by habit noticed everyone once more. There was the beautiful lady with perfectly placed blonde hair. I also noticed the eye glasses of another and thought to myself how they fit her face so well. It’s not that I wasn't paying attention because I was, its just that I focus better if I'm not actually looking at the speaker. It’s like doodling for those that need help focusing. Then something peculiar happened. My eyes scanned the opposite side of the auditorum and there in between a gap of ladies, I saw her! Could it be her? Same hair, same glasses, same mannerisms as she listened to the speaker. Was it my mom?”

“No, it’s just someone that looks like her,” I chided myself. And my peaceful spirit began to sink because this woman reminded me that I hadn't seen my own mother in a long time. I recalled an earlier time in our lives when we had just moved to Richmond. Another similar lady had been shopping in Wal-Mart. I was so overcome with excitement that  my mom was there, I walked right up to her and touched her on the shoulder! "Excuse me.” But when she turned around, my excitement turned to disappointment as it wasn’t her at all. I had explained how she looked just like my mother and how we had moved and that I missed her so.

I thought about how it would be awesome to do LIFE with Mom and attend Bible Studies with her. How nice it would be to have lunch together afterwards. Tears began brimming in my eyes and I had to look away. “I must not cry,” I thought to myself. I tried not looking at this lady. But I was captivated by her. “If only I could run over and double check. If only.” And that’s when I recalled the speaker’s verse.

“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, for the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to proclaim that captives will be released and prisoners will be freed.” ‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭61:1‬ ‭NLT‬‬

“Jesus! Thank you for comforting my broken heart.”

That verse was brought to my attention because the Lord knew I would need to hear it. He knew that I would change seats and see this beautiful  lady. He knew my spirit was calm in the morning but would be broken hearted by mid day. He brought that verse to my attention at EXACTLY the right moment.

Friends, I write this blog to inspire but also to contemplate my own life with you. My idea has always been to show authentic feelings, deep thoughts from the heart that let others know they are not alone. Many people have mothers close by. Please cherish them. Some people weren't blessed with good mothers and are left wondering if anyone might love them at all. Find those women and love on them. Sadly some have mothers that have passed on. What a complete sorrow that must feel like. Listen to them when old memories surface of their own mothers.

I am blessed to have a mother I can call my best friend. Although we live states apart, we chat weekly and she often says,”Oh Kim, if we lived closer we could go to Bible Studies together. We could walk together.” And with pangs of sadness, I wish that could happen too. We cherish the friendship we have and yes, absence does make the heart grow fonder. But just like good friends are often separated by moves, God needs His people spread out all over the world. Our job is to be the light of Jesus in a dark place. And so I will continue to do this journey with great joy for the Lord. I ask that you find those women who are far away from family, maybe in the midst of child raising and become a mentor mom to them. Women supporting women. Wisdom being showered upon each other as a heavenly blessing from above. Could you imagine how our world would change if we chose to look at each other as part of the family instead of strangers sitting across from each other in a large auditorium.

Love and Miss You Mom! Let's talk soon :)

Wonder Woman

When I first became a new mom , I found myself at the bottom of the list all the time. Guilty feelings would surface if I wasn't successfully being Wonder Woman. I actually remember crying one time because I missed ONE DAY of bathing Baby Girl. I know, right?! Rolling my eyes at that one.

But now as a mid-season mom, I've learned that it's okay not to be perfect at this mom thing. And I give myself time to breathe. Today I went to the movies by myself. Anyone want to see a good movie, try Wonder Woman! Ha! Perfect title for my blog post.

Before kids I went to the movies to be around people, as Dale worked long hours and I would get lonely in the evenings. Somewhere along the way, I stopped doing that. 

So today I decided to try it again.  My reasons are a little different now. I'm constantly around (little) people and since Dale travels so much, I do the majority of the parenting. I find myself needing time away-even if it's just for a moment.

The honest truth is that taking a "mommy time out" makes me a better mom. It makes me a better wife too. Not everyone will get this. Not everyone will see the point in taking a breather from their kids. That's okay. For me, it works. If it makes me more of a Wonder Woman for my family then I'll keep doing what works best for me. Maybe your thing isn't the movies. Maybe it's Barnes and Noble or Starbucks. Whatever you need to be a better you, do it...

Here are some pictures of a mid-season mom who still struggles with perfection tendencies. The house will be a mess, the dishes will sit in the sink while I humbly comes to the Father and ask for help.

Let my soul be at rest again, for the Lord has been good to me. Psalm 116:7

Cheesing for the picture!

I could kiss her sweet face a thousand times.

My boy-always smiling.

Baby Girl loves to pretend she's a mermaid.

Took myself to the movies. Slightly awkward to go alone but very relaxing too.

Almost the whole theatre to myself.

Little Miss has lost her two bottom teeth.

My last little napper. I will cherish our snuggle time for as long as she still wants to nap.

He knows I love him, and I know he loves me.

#GotLaundryProblems

 The sign says it all, right? Well... everything is right except for the Self-Service part. It's more like Mom-Service. Or maybe for you, it's Dad-Service. Or maybe you both pitch in, in which I would say, "Come over and have coffee. I need to pick your brain for a while." However you do laundry, I think we all can agree on one thing..."IT SUCKS." And for the last five and a half years, I have really struggled with this chore. Most likely because it never ends and you only see a finished product for like two seconds. But now that my last baby is two, I feel like I'm finally able to break free for a few moments and fold a load here or there. So public disclaimer coming...

 

If you have little babies running around just go ahead and save this post for later because I don't want you getting discouraged thinking you aren't good at your job. You are! It's just that with little ones, its REALLY hard to catch a moment to fold a load.

 

Just to help you all realize how big of a struggle this has been for me, let me rewind time to 2011. I had just delivered my first baby and the postpartum blues were real. But looking back, I didn't know they were postpartum blues. They really just felt like I was a complete failure at this mom thing all the time. Baby Girl struggled with lactose sensitivity and reflux and being a new parent, I thought there would never be an end to this madness. So while trying to console her during the day, nothing got done. My dear husband really helped out a lot. But one day he got the idea to wash and dry ALL fifteen loads of laundry. He dumped it all on the guest bed and went to do more--I'm not complaining, really I'm not!!! A little while later, I decided to go searching for him. I was groggy from no sleep and in my super sexy hoodie and pajama pants. I went to the guest room and saw him dump another load on top of the bed. Guys, the mountain of clothes was HUGGGGEEEEE!!! I took one look at the mountain and totally freaked out!

 

"Why did you wash and dry all these clothes?!" I was crying inconsolably. "I don't have time to fold these, much less put them away."

 

"I was trying to help. I thought if I washed and dried them all, it would be one less thing for you to do."

 

My poor husband, he was living with a crazy woman and didn't even know  it. To me, it looked like another problem I had to face head on. And frankly, I couldn't handle anymore problems. Needless to say, I regret how I acted that day. To be totally real, I probably cried for another hour and then realized the problem was not my dear husband, the problem was life itself had thrown a mountain of crap on my life. Postpartum blues, fussy baby, momma guilt, wife guilt. and the list goes on. Later on, I went to apologize to him and being the great man he is, he ended up helping me fold all the clothes. What a good man he is!

 

So now back to present time. It gets easier, I promise. And I had to ask a lot of people how they accomplish all that laundry without going bonkers. The truth is everyone has their own system. You just have to find what works for you. I decided that every day I would do two loads-wash, dry and fold. You'll notice further on down my blog that I don't put away until later. Keep reading to see how I have solved all my laundry problems...

Since moving into our new home, the one thing that totally freaked me out was a hall laundry room. And this one had no door! Gosh, I couldn't shut the door on my problems anymore ;) Y'all can see in the pic, two loads on the top ready to fold and two loads in being washed and dried.

I searched pinterest for laundry room makeovers and the one thing that caught my eye was separating everyone's laundry. But I didn't have a fancy cabinet to do that in. So I converted a linen closet into a laundry closet. I went to Walmart and bought one hamper per person so that when I folded their clean clothes, it immediately went into their hamper. My mother always uses the rule, "Touch it once," which means don't fold it and leave it, fold it and put it in its' place.

But folding and putting away all in the same day was a no-go for me. I literally HATE putting clothes away and I bet you do too! So I made the rule that I would wash, dry and fold during the week and everyone (except The Hubs) would put away their own clothes. You might not agree with my practices but we pay the kids a quarter to put their clothes away. It teaches them to work for their money. No entitlement here. Momma ain't no servant (now didn't that sound a teeny bit redneck).

And so by Sunday, everything is put away, I have an empty laundry closet, a clean counter and a stress free life. But guess what...it all starts again on Monday. Sorry y'all, there's not a laundry fairy yet. Just good old fashion hard work.

 

Thanks for reading and if you find this post helpful or if you have advice for me, please comment below or on Facebook.

 

Much Love,

Kim

I Love You to the Moon and Back

 

"Mommy?" Her little voice whispered to me from the foot of the bed. 

"Yes, Baby Girl," I said half asleep.

I heard little feet scuff across the carpet toward the bed...

"Mommy, it's time to put on my school clothes."

I opened my eyes and saw nothing but darkness and a teeny bit of light escaping through the curtains. "Dear Lord, what time is it?" I thought. 

Glancing at my phone, I noticed that it was just 6:30 AM. She didn't need to be at school until 9:15.  This girl was raring to go.

Her blond hair had fallen in front of her face but I could still see her squenching up that little nose at me. "It's TIME to put on my school clothes."

Seeing her persistence and anticipation for school made my heart smile. "Ok, let's eat breakfast first."

She ate her favorite that morning-cheesy scrambled eggs and strawberry milk. She  even asked for seconds-which was odd for my little lady. The excitement just oozed from her. In no time at all, she was ready to run back upstairs and put on her  school clothes. I hobbled along because I had pulled my lower back muscles again and the pain was radiating through my hips. By the time I had made it up the stairs she had already picked out her outfit and was putting it on. 

"Mommy, will you help me brush my teeth?"

"Sure baby. Usually I ask her to start brushing and I finish, but I didn't want to fight with her. This was her first day and I wanted it to be just perfect. She asked for a headband (her new favorite hair accessory) and washed her own face. 

In my mind, I felt the fleeting sadness that she was too little to be growing up so quickly. I pushed the feeling aside and went downstairs to pack her backpack and snack. At last, I could sit on the couch and rest my back for awhile until carpool arrived. She opened the hall closet and I heard her rustling through her shoes. Closing the door she proudly walked over to me and I noticed something very peculiar. Baby Girl, headband extraordinaire, dressy little princess had picked the oddest pair of shoes possible-water shoes. Like the shoes she wears in the creek or the ocean. I thought, "Now I really can't let her go to school looking like that. But if I squash her choice in shoes it could hurt her. Heck! Let her go like that! If a monsoon hits, atleast she'll be prepared." So I said not a word.

"Let's go take your picture, Baby Girl."

"Ok, here mommy. I'll give you my hands and help you up."

My heart jumped into my throat. I could just cry talking about it. As much as I had tried to put on a brave strong face, my little girl still recognized that Mommy's back was hurt. She had witnessed The Hubs helping me up for the past two days and she was trying her best to replicate what she saw. But more than just replicating, she was showing empathy! Three years old! My little girl was growing in her sense of empathy for others. What a huge milestone!

My heart swelled with pride and joy. "Thank you Baby Girl. But I think I can manage."

She took some of the spunkiest pictures ever. I liken her to Pippy Longstocking-when she's looking for her spunk. Baby Girl exuded the most confident smile I've ever seen in a three year old. Her bruisy legs reminded me of Iggy on Fried Green Tomatoes. I was never more proud or thankful for her than in that moment...

 

Baby Girl,

Three years old! I still can't get over how much you've changed since the first year you started school. Not only physically have you grown but emotionally and socially. You empathize with others. You're gentle around younger children. You are beyond verbal! Sometimes so much so, I mistakingly think you are older than what you are. You are so much fun!!! You love to dance and twirl and even sing along with me to the radio. You are such a helper to me!!! You clean your own room (with my guided help) and you bring your plate to the counter when finished with a meal. You are a self starter, putting on your own clothes and going to the bathroom by yourself. 

Daddy and I are so proud of you and want you to know that there is nothing you could ever do, to make us stop loving you. I blink my eyes and you've grown. It shows me that I need to appreciate your littleness for as long as I can. Grow up strong, brave and confident little one. I will close with what you said to me the other day...

"Mommy, do you know how much I love you?"

"Hmmm, how much?"

"I love you to the moon and back."

Well Baby Girl, I love you to the moon and back again ten times over...

September 2013

September 2014

She filled up her praise jar with good behavior choices...

 

So she got her first pedicure as a reward : )

Looking at the purple water...

 

Trying to sit really still...

All the cuteness in the world wrapped up into one little girl...

 

My Dear Sweet Boy

I hopped up from the couch and grabbed my son. I could tell he was tired by the way he kept wobbling around.  It was time for our nightly routine to begin.

"Say Night Night," I told him.

He lifted his whole arm, stretched our all five fingers and turned his hand side to side. "Nigh Nigh," he said with his big toothy grin.

Lately, he's talking so much and is so proud of himself. We both praise him and I rub his head in a "good job" fashion.

Baby Boy and I walked upstairs and put his pj's on. Then we got out his favorite book about fire trucks. He laughed at the pictures and stuck his tiny finger out to touch the fire truck wheels. I marveled at his boyness and wondered why The Lord saw it fit to make me the mother of a boy.  Me? I'm the most girly girl you can get. I cry easily, don't participate in sports and really enjoy pretty things. How can I be a good mother to my fire truck loving, rough and tumbling boy? 

We finished the book and I got up to to turn off the lights. Grabbing the fleece monster blanket I had made him, I wrapped him up snuggly and laid him on my chest. I noticed his toes were sticking out from beneath the blanket and my heart saddened a little at the thought of him growing up. We said our prayer which was short because Baby Boy would rather fall asleep then talk anymore.

"As I lay me down to sleep..."

His eyes grew heavy but didn't close so I said a prayer over him as my hand rubbed his head back and forth.

"Lord, help Baby Boy to grow up loving You. Make him a God fearing man. Make him brave and strong and smart. And God please help him always know how much his mother loves him, even when our new baby comes into our lives. Amen."

I gently laid him down in his crib and covered him up with a second blanket. I laid his truck book beside him and he propped himself up to look at the pictures. 

 

I softly sing him his song. A made up version of Emmylou Harris, Gillian Welch and Alison Krauss's song,  "Go To Sleep You Little Baby."

"Go to sleep little baby.

Go to sleep little baby.

Momma loves you so and

Your Daddy does too, 

We'll always love you baby."

He looks up at me with those soft gray blue eyes and I know he's okay with me leaving. I think about how in a few short months, he'll no longer be my baby but my second born. And I worry so much that he will feel slighted knowing that another baby has taken the baby roll. 

I gently close the door and exhale softly.

My Dear Sweet Boy,

 

You came into our lives 15 months ago. I wondered how I could be a good mother to two of you. But when you were born, instant love surrounded me as I laid your head on my chest. You are my son, my second born, my wild child. You keep me on my toes and never let me sit  down but I wouldn't want it any other way. I love watching you play with box cars and go,"Broom Brooom," as you roll them across the floor. I love how fearless you are. I love how when you are most tired, you lift your tiny arms up and lay them around my neck with your head on my chest. I love how when you fall, you need your momma the most. I love folding your newly washed clothes and smelling you all over them. My dear sweet boy...always know that I loved you first and go easy on your momma when I hold tightly to you. It's hard to see you grow up. The new baby is coming but just like with Baby Girl, there is more room in my heart for all of you. I promise to rub your head, read you truck books and comfort you when you fall. My Dear Sweet Boy...

"You are a Very Good Mom"

"Do you do the dishes every single night?" This was about the fifth time I had asked that question to different mom's that I know.

"Yes, I do. I just can't stand to think that there are dishes in my sink," another one replied.

"Wow! Well I could care less if there are dishes in my sink. They will be there tomorrow for me to do," I replied.

This was the response that came out of my mouth but in my head, I once again was laying on the "Mommy Guilt." Subconsciously, I was telling myself, "Your kids deserve better, Kim. They deserve a house with a clean sink. You are a Lazy Mom.

Now doesn't that sound ridiculous to you?! It does to me, but that's exactly what I thought.

A few days later and I was scrolling through Facebook when suddenly I slowed my scroll to a crawl. "Hmmmmm. Another awesome mother who knows how to do art with her child. I am such a Bad Mom. How come I never think of art projects for the kids to do? It must be because I'm too busy vacuuming or blogging. Wait! Then that must mean I'm a Neglectful Mom. You should spend every single waking minute entertaining your kids!"

Sounds ridiculous again, right? But that's what I thought. I was crucifying myself.

And the thoughts just keep pouring in...

You "should" be a Pre-K Homeschooling Mom. Your kids will be dumb when they enter Kindergarten and then everyone will think you're an Uncaring Mom. So what do I do? I run to Barnes and Noble and buy a Pre-K Learning Book. Baby Girl and I were going to sit down together and learn all our A,B,C's shapes, and colors before Kindergarten...and in one week too!  I tried that with her...guess what happened? Five minutes in, she'd circled all the orange pumpkins and now was scribbling over the entire page!

"No, Baby Girl. This is school. We need to do as many pages as we can without scribbling all over them," I told her.

"How utterly ridiculous," I thought. I should let her scribble over anything she wants to...she's only three for crying out loud! In the end, I let her scribble until her little fingers were done scribbling and summed it up to, "I'm just not a patient, organized mom."

Really? You're probably thinking. Yes, really (shaking my head).

So if it couldn't get any worse, I have one more story to tell you. We were standing at the door, putting our shoes on.  My mother's helper was about to leave and we were about to head out the door too. Baby Girl hands my Mother's Helper the check and says, "Here. This is daddy's money. Thanks for coming to help us."

I swear my heart jumped into my throat, blocking it off, making me speechless. Finally, I found my words and said, "Baby Girl, mommy and daddy share the money. I may not work outside the home but I work here. So that's partly my money too."

The answer sounded very educated and reasonable. But I wasn't thinking that in my head. I was really thinking, "You should go to work outside the home! Then Baby Girl will think that you work for money too. You need to teach her that women are valuable assets to society. You suck at being a "Stay at Home Mom."

Now, I know what all of my Readers are thinking right now. But all I need to say first hand is, "Don't Judge. You have also been there in some form or another. Comparing yourself to others. It's a dreaded evil that overtakes us all at times...unless you're Narcissistic. But that's a whole other conversation"

But here's the beautiful ending to such a horrible blog...

Date Night with My Love

The kids have been away at their grandparents this weekend. This was the first weekend The Hubs and I have spent at our house alone in three years. The first day was heaven. I've done endless amounts of cleaning (yes, I have a clean sink). I timed vacuuming the upstairs-only 15 minutes. And I steamed all the bathroom floors. My house is sparkling...Mr.Clean would be impressed.

Satisfying Baby #3's craving for Asian Food.

And I've taken care of myself. I had a gift card to a spa, so I got a facial. The lady scrubbed away dead skin and put the Rose Essential Oil on my face. Heaven. Then I ate lunch by myself...it was so peaceful. No noise, nobody else to feed, just me enjoying time by myself. That evening The Hubs and I went to the fireworks on Brown's Island. It was great and all...but the whole time I kept staring at the little kids wishing mine were there with me to see these beautiful fireworks.

Today, I'm home sitting in a super clean house- and a weirdly quiet one too, I might add. I miss them. I miss being a mom. I can't believe I'm saying this but I want them home...to basically wrestle with a wiggly alligator boy as I "try" to change his diaper, to watch Baby Girl scribble all over her Learning Book and watch her smile when she circles all the orange pumpkins correctly. I miss making their chocolate milk and chopping up their grapes for lunch. Yes, it's only been four days but in these four days, God has forced me to realize something...

Fireworks at Brown's Island

I may not be Pine Sol Mom, or Artsy Fartsy Mom, or even Teaching My Kid to be a Prodigy Mom but I am a very good Stay at Home Mom. I love my kids unconditionally. I'm raising them to be kind, brave and strong people. I'm teaching them how to politely treat others on our endless amounts of playdates. They are never neglected or alone because I will always be there to say, "Here's some chocolate milk. Want to sit on my lap and watch Rolie Polie Olie?" My kitchen sink may be loaded with dishes by nightfall but you can bet your bottom dollar, I'm upstairs telling Baby Girl a made up story about a bear that swipes an apple pie off a window sill or watching Baby Boy smile as he points and touches everything on the animal book we're reading.

This is what I've learned in four kid-free days...

1) The laundry will always be 10 loads behind

2) The sink will always have dinner dishes piled up at night

3) My floors will be always be referred to as "Perpetual Smushed Banana Land."

4) The dirt will ALWAYS BE THERE.

But...

1) My kids will always have clean clothes to wear.

2) My kids will always have healthy food to fill their bellies.

3) My kids will always know how much I love them...how much they take priority in my life.

4) My kids will be gone one day. I'll be left with a super clean, quiet house and a lonely heart.  So I'm

 going to enjoy the littleness as long as I can and keep telling myself, "You are a Very Good Mom."

 

 



16 Weeks with Baby #3



 

He looks so content here...reminds me of my Papow Homer.

 

She came home to a new swing for her playset :)

 

Cooking Dinner.