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Real Talk

The other day, I legit chased my toddler around my street with no pants. ZERO pants. He was running all over the street and I didn’t have time to think about whether or not neighbors could see my saggy white rear end peeking out from underneath my shirt. I had a toddler to catch. If you happened to look out of your window and you live on my street… you’re welcome.

shopping_cart

The Magic Shopping Cart

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I gritted my teeth as I heard his cries from the bedroom. I checked the clock. 45 minutes? That’s it? I went up and got that crying little mess of a boy.

He had 3 teeth trying to poke through and he was in pain. And now I was in pain because I couldn’t “do” anything with the house. No laundry, no dishes, can’t prep for dinner. I had him gulp down some Tylenol and I changed the diaper amid the wails and loaded him in the car.


From past experience, teething was more bearable if we just got out of the house. So I buckled little TJ in his car seat and I turned the car on… sat there as it idled. Then the screaming started again. He had his bunny, Tylenol and milk, but the pain was still winning. I white-knuckled the steering wheel and checked the clock.

We had two hours until we picked up the boys from preschool. Fleetingly, I thought about how bone-weary I was. That nap would have been nice. Searching my mental rolodex, which is scattered on the floor these days, I thought, “I have stuff to drop off at Goodwill and groceries to get. We can do this.”

He screamed through Goodwill and until we got to Fry’s. Then, like magic, I took him out of his car seat, put him in the shopping cart and he started smiling and pointing “Lookit that!!!” Change of scenery works every time. I raced him through the aisles of the grocery store knowing this happy time of him staying in the cart was limited. We got in line to check out.

The lady in front of me was taking awhile and TJ was starting to get restless. I pushed the cart back and forth and made silly faces and tried to keep him from grabbing all of the conveniently placed bad-for-you-stuff. When I got to the register, the sweet employee talked to TJ and high-fived him. He told him what a great little boy he was.

He started to ring my items and looked me straight in the eye and smiled, “I can tell you must be a good mom.” My eyes welled up and I had to blink a few times. “Thank you. You have no idea how much you made my day.”

The day went on pretty much as usual. All three with their childish demands and dinner being the most ridiculously stressful time of day. The fighting about who gets to sit in what chair and how quickly the baby will get sick of his high chair and start throwing food (I’m always watching out of the corner of my eye so I can catch him before the food fight). Then the tired attempt at making all of them clean up while TJ dumps the same stuff out of the baskets.

The grind is a killer, but for a brief second, I was seen today. I was known. And as I tucked older two in bed, I realized that maybe, just maybe… I could do it all again tomorrow.

Nightmare on West Elm Street

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I see you.

I see you, you West Elm sales person.

I know what you’re thinking because I saw you blink really fast when we came in.

Yep. That’s right. We have three little kids. And we’re in West Elm. Because we’re feeling a little risky tonight.

Oh yeah. I know. I know that you set your store up so it wouldn’t accommodate strollers. Yeah. I know. You did that for a reason. I’m ok with that. We’ll navigate it.

Oh… you’re coming over here now? Oh, hi. Yes. We’re doing fine. We don’t need any help. You want to babysit? Was that fear that crossed your eyes?

Run.

You run right back behind the desk because West Elm is a nice and peaceful place where everything is magical and patterns don’t clash. Unlike the clothes my boys are wearing.

Heck. I don’t even know what I’m wearing right now and I bet my hair looks like it was licked by ten cows.

Uh oh. Did dad just spill part of his soda on the floor? Boys, come with mom. We’re going to just walk over here and create a diversion.

Avert your eyes sales person… avert your eyes.

Dad, do you need me to get something to… oh, yes. A diaper will do the trick. You wipe that floor with the diaper. You’re a genius. No one will know except the security cameras.

Uh oh, baby’s breaking down and starting to scream. Let’s turn around and head for the door. Thanks for the free entertainment West Elm!

Breathe easy salespeople. Next time we’ll try to buy something… but then again, we’re probably kid-ing.

October 14, 2018 at 02:12PM

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*Sam was in his feelings today and got mad at me for not letting him watch a movie in the car*

Sam: “Mom, I’MMA FIRE YOU!”
*full disclosure- it took me a minute to answer because I was silent laugh-crying in the front seat*
Me: “Ok then… who’s going to be my replacement?”
Him: “Jesus!”

Welp, at least he traded up. Who else thinks he’s going to be a CEO?

Love Never Leaves

I know it was 100 degrees in the shade and I was on top of a ladder in the garage, but I was by myself. I had just put the baby down for a nap and the two boys in their room for quiet time and I was working away programming two universal remotes for our garage doors. I just finished programming the left door when I heard an ear-piercing scream from the boys’ room. I got down the ladder fast and raced upstairs to see what awful scene I was going to encounter, already mentally calculating the ER bill.

I found Sammy behind his gate absolutely hysterical and crying his eyes out. I opened his gate exasperated. “Sammy, what in the world is the matter?” He cried louder and added some despair for good measure. The baby started bawling in the room next door and I knew he had only had an hour nap. Good gosh. There goes anything I was trying to accomplish. My frustration was a big black hole that had no end. Back to Sammy.

“Sammy, honey, what is going on?” He choked between sobs, “Mom…. mom…. I heard the garage and I thought you were going to leave me!!!!!!” *waillllllllll sob sob sob*

I was insulted. I mean, I have never given my boys any reason to think I would just up and leave them. Also, Dave was home. They knew that. I was just mystified by this outburst. I was about to chide him for his ridiculousness when I noticed his quivering little lip and the fear in his eyes. I got down on my knees and I just held his trembling little body. I was beyond irritated but I consoled this sad little thing, assured him that I was not even going anywhere. Then I got the baby who was clearly awake and I went downstairs.

I met Dave in his office. “I don’t even know what happened up there. Why in the realm of reality would Sammy be afraid of me leaving? Plus, they know you’re here…”

Dave looked at me quizzically. “Honey, they love you.”

This…. this was news to me. I take all the crap, all the day. Everything that comes from the most unloving places.

As I put them down to sleep that night, we read our stories and said our prayers, and I gave them their required ten hugs and kisses and I turned off the lights.

Anyone who knows my boys knows they are very different, but equally determined and independent creatures. In their short lives, they’ve all but moved out and got a job. They aren’t known for being very affectionate and verbally effusive, but I want them to know the security that comes from affection in both words and action. So I tell them I love them ALL the time. I have rarely, if ever heard either of them return it, but I continue to make the deposits.

I stepped outside their room and I heard Josh pipe up “I love you mom!” and then a little Sammy voice piped in “I love you mom!”

I leaned back over their gate and blew kisses. “I love you too boys!”

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In 13-ish years they don’t know that the tables will be flipped. They’ll walk out of the door to head to college or whatever life God has called them to and it is I who will feel the panic in my chest. “Josh, Josh…. I heard the garage close and I just know you are going to leave!”

“Now you get yourself back over here and give your mama one more hug and tell me one more story.”

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