motherhood

How to Train a Husband (It’s Not What You Think)

I was curled up in bed as another round of coughing wracked through my body.  I had been sick for four days and knew something was not right.  My body refused to heal and I couldn’t figure out why.

I had enough sense not to Google my symptoms.  In my weakened state any glimpse of doom I might read would derail any chance at wellness.

“Full Speed!”

I croaked out his name and asked him to join me in my room.  I asked him to Google dehydration for me.

He sat with me a long time.  He patiently read through each symptom discerning what he could share with me in my fragile state and what he could not.

After a few moments, we confirmed it.  I was dehydrated.  Full Speed helped me formulate a plan to get me feeling better.  He went and got me some Powerade.

This made me cry.

This confused him.

I went on to share that I was so proud of him for being a good caretaker.  I then confessed that the girl he may or may not have been messaging (he will neither confirm or deny this allegation), made me emotional.  Of course I am so happy he has found someone who has peaked his interest (or not), but I am sad he is no longer my ‘baby’.

This made me cry harder.  Torrents of tears and emotions poured out of me and nearly washed both of us away.

He continued to sit with me.

He listened.

He offered words of comfort and reassurance without judgment.

I said, “I don’t know if you realize this, but I am teaching you how to be in a relationship.  When your future (current?) girlfriend gets emotional you will be prepared.  You will know how to handle it just like you handled this situation with me.  In fact, you may wonder if ‘that’s all she’s got?’ because I admit, I may or may not be a tad more emotional than your average woman.”

With that, I let out even more tears.  When I was done, he twisted off the cap to my Powerade, handed it to me and left me with a hug.

As he left the room it hit me hard.

I was training him how to be a husband.

In my complete expression of what was in my heart and my mind, I was showing him how to sit with another’s vulnerability.

Showing Full Speed the truth of my inner world is a part of husband training.  The other half happened nearly two decades ago.  It started the minute I fell in love with Mad Dog.

At the time and being only twenty-four years old, I could not know how he would be as a husband and father years later.

He has far exceeded any expectation I ever had.

Every day he shows my boys what it means to be a husband.  They watch how he works tirelessly to provide for us and how he will do anything to make my dreams a reality.

When Full Speed clicked open that Powerade before he handed it to me, he did so after watching years of Mad Dog doing the same.

In no way am I saying that Full Speed is required to get married.  It is his life to live and it is frankly, none of my business.

My business is to stay truthful.  To continue to be authentic in how I live and love.

Sometimes I am embarrassed by how much emotion bubbles out of me at the most inopportune moments, but it is who I am.

In a way, this may be where my greatest strength originates.

I am lighting the way for love for both my boys.

True love.  The love that is most real.  The kind that endures the ups and downs of living a life together.

The kind that takes you on unexpected adventures but also finds your heart tucked safely inside gratitude simply by being together.

Exactly as we are.

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Mad Dog, thank you for taking me to see Michael Buble’.  You are the best.

 

 

 

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

humor, kids, motherhood

There’s a Reason Drama Rhymes with Mama

I am kind of a mess right now.  If you ran into me on the street, I still appear normal on the outside, but inside me swims the anxiety and tension of moving my family to a new state.  This is all a normal part of the experience.

What isn’t normal is that my boys are not really freaking out.  I mean, aren’t they supposed to be freaking out?

Here’s a recent conversation I had with them:

“Are you nervous about going to a new school?” I said.

Both said, “No.”

“Are you worried you won’t make new friends?” I said.

Both said, “No.”

“Are you concerned that you won’t be academically prepared when school starts?”

Both said, “No.”

Can you spot the pattern here?

Maybe instead I should ask, “Are you worried your mom is going to ask you so many questions about whether or not you are worried that you may tune her out completely?”

(crickets chirping)

Thank you to the stars above for giving me two, level-headed sons that tolerate my dramatic inquiries and love me anyway.

Fewer questions equal less drama.

No guarantees.

 

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humor, motherhood

When Left to Their Own Devices…

T.Puzzle needed me to sign a paper in his folder.  I use the word ‘folder’ loosely here.  While my occupations as a stay-at-home-mom and writer/dreamer/blogger have their busy work, I often have very little need for folders.  Therefore, when I saw T.Puzzle’s ‘folder’, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was seeing:

Apparently he ‘stores’ it at the bottom of his backpack.

This may be where all paper-based products go to die.

Speaking of dying, this segues nicely into our little family weekend adventure.  I have to preface this by saying that of my three boys, Mad Dog normally requires the least amount of supervision.  I may have to change this policy to preserve his safety.

On Friday, Mad Dog had a routine root canal.  He seemed to have the pain mostly managed and overall, had everything ‘under control’.

Shortly after when he took the allotted four ibupofren to manage pain, he realized he accidentally ingested four of his antibiotic pills instead.

He should have taken 300mgs, but decided to go all out with 1200mgs.

To save you time, here is what Google said:

1200mgs is the very top of what a doctor would prescribe and only in a dire, life-threatening bacterial infection kind of way.  It said nothing about ingesting the 1200mgs as a way to threaten your own life in a general, absent-minded way.

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Taking too many antibiotics?

Thankfully, Mad Dog made it safely through the night.  Unfortunately, he nows move to the top of the list as being the most supervised of my three boys.