humor, motherhood

Victory

Full Speed clunked his way through the school library doors.  The past couple days tested him.  A cold slowed his usual enthusiasm for life and by the looks of him, I knew his day drained what little energy he had left.  He sat in silence while I finished up my volunteer tasks.  Once T.Puzzle arrived, we made our way to the car.

I asked Full Speed point-blank, “What did you have for lunch?”

He said, “Nothing.”

Nothing!  Alarm bells rang loud and clear in my head.  He passed on breakfast and instead of forcing the issue, I made him promise to eat something at lunch.

Once lunchtime arrived, his appetite would reappear.  I counted on that and said as much to him.

To hear him say he ate nothing all day seemed unacceptable.

“You.  Are eating dinner.  No negotiation.  Understand me?” I said.

He nodded in defeat.

Later, at the dinner table as T.Puzzle described his luncheon with the principal (as an honor, not a punishment, thank goodness!), something in the way Full Speed’s eyes twinkled, made me question if he skipped lunch.

“Full Speed, did you really not eat lunch?” I said.

Silence.

“Full Speed?”

No answer.

“Alright, I guess I’ll just look it up on your lunch account and find out for myself.”

“Yes!  I had lunch!  Okay?” he said.

“Why would you lie about that?” I said.

“Because then I would have to admit you were right.  My appetite did come back and I was hungry.  I already had two days of feeling sick.  I couldn’t admit that my mom was right and I was wrong on top of that!”

Like a lunch after hours of not eating, victory never tasted so sweet.

 

Victory

inspiration, motherhood

I Remember You

IMG_0999My phone was switched to silent.  As I clacked away at my computer, I happened to glance in its direction right when a call came in.

I answered immediately and heard the phrase every moms dreads:

“Hello, this is the Clinic….”

Turns out, T.Puzzle had chills, a fever and a headache.

I grabbed my keys and was out the door.

Normally, in this situation, my life freezes in place.  Any plans are immediately tossed aside.

This is no longer true.

Even though T.Puzzle came home early AND missed the next day of school, I attended my creative writing class (held at night), did yoga and went to a hair appointment.

It was as if I was a real human being living an actual life.

If you are a mom and feel complete overwhelm at the loss of your freedom, I am here to tell you it does return.

Until then, be kind to yourself and please, ask for help.

I haven’t forgotten that you were a person before you had children.

Do your best to hold on to her.

She’s worth the wait.

ShortQuotesYouMatterQuotesAmigo

dogs, humor, motherhood

Blaze of Glory

Change is not without challenge.  When you are a senior citizen, this sometimes amplifies your resistance to change.

For the record, I am referring to my senior dog, Little Guy, and not myself.  Yes, I had to clarify as my children are certain I am quite advanced in age.

Little Guy turned fifteen this summer.  He has lived a long, healthy, happy existence and is still enjoying life (well, at least the parts he doesn’t sleep through).  However, with all this change surrounding us, eating was no longer a favorite activity.  He began to reject all forms of meticulously prepared kibble and such.  He preferred treats and began to beg for table scraps.

This went on for many weeks.  He began to lose weight and started to lose some of his zip.

Finally, in a last-ditch effort (yes, the situation was becoming quite dire), I stumbled upon a raw food diet that he adores.  I don’t mind one bit that it’s super fancy.

He’s little.

He’s old.

He can have whatever his heart desires.

Since he began his fancy food, he is a much more content, happy boy.

He loves his life again.

In essence, he is reverting back to his natural heritage of being a carnivorous beast.

He’s going out in a blaze of glory.

Just make sure you heat up his food for twenty seconds in the microwave before you serve him.

He’s not a complete savage for goodness sakes!

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children, family, motherhood

Reset

Unfortunately, as our children grow towards adulthood, life starts handing them more complex challenges.  Gone are the days of kindergarten-fixes which were mostly comprised of a few snuggles and a chocolate chip cookie.

It isn’t all bad.

The best part is watching our children’s personalities solidify into more of who-they-are.  They get to start defining more what matters to them.

Weirdly, that doesn’t always align with what mom and dad deem important.

As I continue to let my boys go off into the world to discover what is most true for them, I must go and do the same for myself.

Mothers and caregivers tend to take a giant pause in their life when it comes to raising a family.  This pause becomes so second-nature, we often don’t realize when it’s time to hit the reset button.

We are not meant to figure everything out in one day.

In fact, I believe we never figure everything out completely.

Life moves forward for a reason.  Sometimes it makes sense and sometimes it doesn’t.

Either way it’s moving.

We can either join in or sit back.  Maybe both?

Even if we don’t make every right turn, the fact that we are on the journey is bound to lead us somewhere wonderful.

Especially if where we’ve been has already shown us such great love.

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family, humor, motherhood

Snapped (the little rubber bands of the world)

It was small.  Almost microscopic in relation to all the other LEGO components.

It really shouldn’t have mattered, but, oh, did it make my blood boil.

To keep things completely honest, this tiny LEGO part that I am referring to belonged to a gigantic guilt-induced, we-are-moving-you-away-from-family-and-friends LEGO set Mad Dog and I had purchased for T.Puzzle.

It’s a rollercoaster.

The LEGO set, not my emotional well-being.

Scratch that.

Both are a rollercoaster.

Look out, world!

To get back to the tiny part that was missing, let me explain why I was ready to lose my mind.

As you know, moving = chaos.   There are boxes.  There are boxes.  Let me repeat, there are boxes.

And they are everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

And the stuff!  It’s everywhere yet you cannot find what you need to save your life.

So, as T.Puzzle began construction on his rollercoaster, I explicitly said to him:

“Please put these tiny, teeny, very-small-indeed rubber bands SOMEWHERE THAT YOU WON’T LOSE THEM.”

Yep.

He lost them and with them, my last remaining shred of sanity.

Even as I was disproportionately overreacting to the loss of these rubber bands, I allowed myself a freak out.

I even said out loud, “I realize my reaction does not match what is happening, but, it can’t be helped.”

What added to the comedy (tragedy?), is that all three of my boys kept throwing each other under the bus. Lots of accusations about what had happened to the lost items were bandied about.

Guess how much personal accountability was offered?

Zero.

Zilch.

Nada.

Eventually, after some CSI-level maneuverings, the missing pieces materialized.

Mad Dog had ‘stored’ them in our kitchen garbage can.

Moving forward I have two options:

  1. Never buy another LEGO set again
  2. Never move for the rest of my natural life

 

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Recently, it has come to my attention I am a softie for my ‘baby’.  I don’t disagree. See that face?  He’s probably getting more LEGOs.  That is all.