Chaos and Kisses--The Life of a Mom

It is funny how we develop our identiy. When meeting new people the question is often asked "And what do you do??" from most of the women I know, the reply is "I'm just a mom." That three letter word, mom is usually what is listed in the occupation box on any credit application. When talking to teachers and the kids friends I turn into "Jessie and Aubrey's mom". My whole identity is wrapped up in those four little people I tucked into bed an hour ago.

They bring me joy, at the same time they are leading me to the very edge of sanity. I'm not sure how it is even possible for me to crave the hugs and kisses of a two year old while at the same time contemplating shipping her off to baby boot camp.

This week we have felt all the extremes.

Monday morning things were looking pretty good. We went to gymnastics in the morning, and the little girls went to daycare while I worked in the afternoon. It wasn't until daycare pick-up time that things headed South. As I walked up to the door, I saw the familiar plastic grocery bag hanging from the front porch rail. It only took a glance to know I was the lucky winner of the poopy pink panty prize. Apparently, Hallie decided that it was glamorous to keep your leotard on all day underneath your pants and pull-over hoodie. The problem with this plan came when nature called.

That night, Maycee was up coughing. I snuggled and comforted and provided Vicks Vapor Rub until 3 a.m. I finally seized my opportunity and was settling into my "big girl bed" when I heard the pitter pat of little feet coming down the hallway followed by the announcement "I Pukedted!" Hallie had thrown up all through Jessie's bed. A bath for Hallie and a new bed for Jessie on the couch, and we took another try at sleep.......

Tuesday morning. All the children are up and ready for daily aerobics. I looked and felt like I had been hit by a truck. I planned my entire day around the promise of naptime. Maycee was not interested in naptime. At first she screamed, then she improved her strategy. She decided that maybe if she annumciated clearly and talked slowly with a lot of volume maybe I would listen.

"LET ME OUT NOW!"
"I DON'T WANT TO NAP!"
"I'M NOT TIRED!"
"OPEN THIS DOOR!"
"I"M DONE NAPPING!"
"NOT FAIR!!!"

It would have been funny if I had just a bit more sleep..................and, if I hadn't just realized that the washing machine bit the dust midway through the first load of pukey laundry. Needless to say, there was no nap. There was, however, an ealy bedtime, made possible by the administration of Melatonin.

Today, things are finally looking up. There is a new Maytag in the laundry room working its way through 7 loads of dirty and stinky laundry. Everyone is tucked into their beds and I am enjoying the quiet of the evening.

When I call Drue to let him know what is going on, he is always reminding me "You begged for each one of those kids." He is right. I love them all --and I did beg.

What kind of fun would life be without the chaos and kisses?

Leader of the Band

Today I took the oldest girls and went to see a marching band competition. It was awesome! The biggest bands marched at the end. They marched in excellent formations with incredible power. I was just full of nostalgia. The polyester uniforms. The bad hair from sweating underneath the hats. (The not so secret crush on the percussion player) I found my little feet moving back and forth in sync with the downbeat. Incredible!

I am a band geek from way back. I went to band camp and everything. It shouldn't surprise anyone who has heard me whistle, that I played the flute, and the piccolo. One year, I even played the trumpet. There were too many flutes that year, so my friend Heather and I volunteered to switch and play the trumpet. It is fairly generous of me to say we "played". In truth, while everybody else was playing jazzy runs and pumping out there soul into the hearty melody of the Mexican Hat dance, Heather and I belted out the only note we knew with style. The guys called us "Johnny One Note".

For a while, I thought it was a curse my parents made me stay in band. Now I am grateful to them. I got to be part of a team and despite genetic weakness, I got rythm. I love music! I may not march in formation anymore, but I still march. I am the leader of the music march of little girls in the kitchen of our home on Saturday mornings.