The miniature version of me who really isn’t so me and is not so mini anymore, has caused great panic. First off, he took the path less traveled from school to my car. Now, I am a huge promoter of that path. Life happens off the beaten but not when 50 parents and 8 teacher proctors or whatever their politically correct title may be are watching you.
When school lets out, proceed to follow the path. That means the shoveled, highly salted, dry path leading from school to mother’s vehicle. Oh no, not little Peeno. He basically hurdles a bush, climbs a tree and treks through 6 inches of slushy, melting snow losing his boot. Yes oh yes, I am the parent slouching with sunglasses on and my visor down and my sun shade up and my car basically wrapped in a tarp so to not admit that rebellious child is mine.
But they ALL know….
As soon as he gets near the car I can see the stares, the giggles from his peers, the secret high fives from the junior high kids and my 2nd grader who is about to get down and out with all holiness this Spring, with that smirk. It’s that smirk that’s caught between I just won first place in track and want to stay modest and I just pulled off the unthinkable and got away with it. What he doesn’t seem to appreciate is that his mother often bears the brunt of his travels.
It gets better. Why I dared even to ask how his day was? Of course, I got the vow of silence but then I could see the light bulb flashing and him wanting so hard to speak it up. See, rear view mirrors have become my greatest friend. And seeing that I spend about 5.35 daily hours in my vehicle driving these kids to and from here and there, old rear view has been there.
He has been there when 96 school fundraising candy bars were being busted open. He sees army men’s heads getting chopped off with preschool safety scissors for fear of they and Krampus would severely injure Salvatore, our Elf on the Shelf and on the toilet and on the chandelier and in the refrigerator. Rear view has seen giggles that I knew I best pull the car over. He has warned me of footballs, basketballs, nerf pellets and Starbursts about to be launched my way. He sees truths and mischief and tears and smiles.
But this particular day he saw a big thought. Sure enough, little Peeno proceeds to tell me he gave out our address to a bunch of people at school. Why exactly you ponder? Because he is selling many things at good prices with a BOGO (thank you BIG Bird) special on certain days. Oh yes, come one, come all to the great post Holiday sale. He will even be selling homemade hot cocoa and homemade cookies.
My little entrepreneur has just launched a real life Etsy where Pinterest meets Little Debbie and Swiss Miss. Thank you my dear son. So in telling my boys to think big and build anything what I forgot to offer was my disclosure. With that being known, they would need to proceed to consult with mommy dearest first.
So it wasn’t mattering to him at the least that he just provided an entire student body, faculty and parish with our address. He was going BIG and home. My home, where his new store would be. This way he could make the money to buy all the salted caramel hot cocoas he wanted. Plus nobody was ever going to tell him “no” again when he wants a mud garden pudding from the Botanical Garden cafe.
I have to admit, I was impressed. Being a business owner and all, I get it. I realized I secretly was proud of his efforts and his drive for earning potential. I didn’t like his failure to consult with said business partner per se but nonetheless his mindset was in all the right places.
In any regards, rear view betrays me sometimes and works both ways. When I glanced back he was already in view. He just smiled and said, “Come on mom, you can’t be upset, this is our thing. This is always going to be our thing!”
And he was right. I even think rear view nodded too.
Dream big and create my child, because “Amazon”s don’t grow wild by a flashing cursor. Someone pushes go and an empire is created. May your thing always be your thing! And may your empire always be a bit out of this galaxy. Because it’s out there, off the beaten, that little ideas become BIG things!
Awe F*^k goes the too smart for his bridges first grader. And the teacher giggles. But she can’t let the F-bomb drop and dissipate without consequence.
So she summons my then first grader to the podium where she frantically taught art skills to rambunctious little tikes. Perfectionism can be a curse when the tissue paper flower gets saturated with just a wee bit too much Elmer’s.
For my little Nooch is just that, a class-A perfectionist. Don’t start talking about how apples don’t fall far from trees now either.
It was what it was that Spring Day in May. Imperfect. He tried so hard to apply just the right amount of glue to his perfect tissue paper flower to make the perfect Mother’s Day Card. It was cut perfectly with perfect little bubble letters adorned in every color of the rainbow including the pastel palette, bright palette, spring glitter palate and classic color palette. I mean it’s not Crayola if wide tip washable markers don’t come in 50 shades of the original eight.
But it was all perfect and colorful until the glue runneth over and melted the tissue paper flower and made 50 shades of Crayola bleed all over his perfect Mother’s Day poem. He went from Roses are red, light red, deep red, off red to violets are blue, green and with yellow marble hue to what the f*^k is up with this glue.
So the teacher offers him an option. She could penalize him for dropping the F-bomb or leave it up to mom. Now naturally to some, leaving it up to mom might be the harsher of the sentence, while a 63 year old grandmother of 24 might impose the more lenient of penalties. But instead, as a perfectionist has to make the perfect decision, he tells his teacher he needs to think about it.
She is astounded. My what big bridges you have there little fellow. For you just dropped the F Bomb in class and you are telling me you need a moment to think about who will implement your punishment. Yet, she is laughing hysterically on the inside.
She sends me an email followed by a voice message with a giggle in her tone, about the events of the day. She further proceeds to indicate, that after several minutes, a pro and con list and summoning of a few fist grade colleagues, Noochie has decided to allow his mother to administer the punishment.
So as I learn of the daily news and think long and hard as to what would be the appropriate consequence, I accept and relay I will report back tomorrow with his penance.
Later that evening after I’m sure he squirmed all through after school snack, homework, dinner, and baseball practice, I mention to the little guy we need to have a talk.
Instantaneously, I am sure he had visions of a trip to Bath and Body Works. Perhaps they may have bubble gum flavored soap.
“Well my son, I appreciate you wanting to make the perfect Mother’s Day Card for me. I’m sorry the glue took on a mind if it’s own and wouldn’t stop flowing from its BPA laden bottle, but you have to have a sense of self control with your words. Plus curse words, in English, Italian or any other language for that matter must be refrained from,” I declare!
He is just kinda nodding his head, taking it all in and then says, “It’s gonna be fine.” Little dude. It’s not fine my man, you can’t drop F-Bombs.
I proceed to ask how he can be so nonchalant about using this language and he replies, “It’s gonna be fine. I’ve heard and know so because nationwilder is on my side. And if nationwilder, like the whole wide nation is on my side, then mommy it’s gonna be fine!”
Well, there you have it my friends, you can take the F out of the Bomb but you can’t take the bomb out of the kid. Or something like that. And I guess, when you feel like you are down and out, you’ll always have nationwilder on your side. Unless you are my offspring. We use another four letter word to protect us, it starts in E and ends in e.
I go against the grain. That’s just what I do. I don’t know any other way to roll. So as this blog has always recommended, when life hands you lemons, of course you can throw them at people but you can also use them. And I do that too. Why waste a perfectly good lemon on someone’s head? Lately, I have been using my lemons to make detox water upon rising but a lemon is a lemon is a lemon. So do what you like. Anyways, you get the idea.
So, when life hands me obstacles like lemons and such, I blog and bake. That’s how Swimgirl and this little blog was born almost a year ago. I had some real sour, expired lemons in my fruit preserving drawer. I wanted to make like a bear and go into hibernation but I refused to abandon the journey. No obstacle, whether small or big was going to stop my chi from flowing. Even though I felt like I was sinking and the May Day! signal was not being picked up, I was still afloat. I started treading. Then eventually I was able to turn around and swim.
So here we are, almost a year later, giggling, swimming, inspiring and blogging. Oh and baking too! I tend to be an emotional eater. I eat when I get bogged down by life’s happenings. So instead of eating my way through the anguish, I bake instead. Then I recruit my three little sons to consume the delectable treats. I feel good and a lick of the batter is enough of an euphoria to take off the life preservers and just swim. So, as life happens and this month got more in-depth, I needed to signal out for an SOS.
First I looked up to heaven from earth. I think I received a few answers because to see this magnificence in the dead of winter, was enough to stoke my inner being and revive my attitude. It’s a gaze into the bigger picture. It’s an awakening by realizing there is so much more than what’s being held within each of us.
It’s the breathe, the new dawn, the glimpse that life will always be the journey, not the final destination. It’s knowing someone somewhere, is looking up at the same sky and in the universe our paths are crossing even if our journey is completely different. We are all one in the same, connected yet separate.
Next a fine espresso drink grounds me as I take joy in heaven in a cup. The bold taste of the espresso coupled with subtle hints of vanilla soymilk foam and a touch of dark chocolate just absorbs the cares of the day. It’s my drink. It’s my restoration smoothie. Holding the cup between my palms connects me with the art involved in creating this beverage.
Some wonder why some spend so much money on a coffee. This my friends is no ordinary coffee. It tells a story. From the seed in which it is made. The seed so intricately planted and cultivated that is harvested by a farmer in a developing country. The Fair Trade practice to empower the farmer and help sustain our planet. Then it is packaged and shipped. When it is ground by my Barista, he or she takes the time to make the perfect espresso, adding the exact amount of ingredients at the right temperature to pass onto me the seed that started it all. My heaven in a cup.
So we have heaven from earth, heaven in a cup and heaven on earth via my latest creation. The Grande Mocha Whip Cupcake. I wanted to recreate heaven on earth since life has been handing me lots of yellow produce lately. I wanted to stop, think and listen rather than overeat. I wanted to take a step back and create. Thus, the little cupcake short and sweet was born. It took almost a week to create this lovely piece of joy. Just like when we set out to blog we navigate and create our sites. With trial and error we pick our theme, choose our Gravatar, establish our color scheme and organize our widgets. Then we begin. We tap key after key and before we know it we are blogging. Just like that.
Just like my cupcake was created. Ingredient by ingredient an espresso drink recreated in a cupcake. Rich espresso infused with dark chocolate and vanilla. In the drink version, my favorite part is when the cup runneth dry. Instead of approaching it as my cup is empty, I am full of joy instead. The sweet chocolate syrup at the bottom with white foam. That’s the best part. This was the hardest to replicate. Finally, after good old trial and error, I found the magic ingredient. An Oreo cookie was lined in the muffin tin to recreate the best part of the drink. Yet, the frosting top does not disappoint either as the first layer captures the espresso froth while the next layer captures the vanilla soymilk foam. The hints of espresso and dark, rich chocolate will tempt your soul…wanting more! But why stop there? Why just create and not share?
So despite the what ifs, and little voices that tell me I would never win, I entered heaven on earth into a cupcake contest. So for the next 14 days my cupcake will be judged by all of you and the world-wide web. It may be hard for the non coffee or chocolate lover to indulge in such a treat but if you are reading between the lines, you can see the bigger picture here.
You can see this is about creating when life hands us lemons. It’s about doing something you probably don’t stand a chance in succeeding in. It’s starting that really matters. It’s trying when your little engine says you can’t. It’s indulging in life rather than the goodies that make us think they enable us. It’s having self-control when you want to blow. It’s art, it’s your passion, it’s sharing when perhaps you think no one is listening. Because somewhere, up or out there, you will touch someone. You will be the seed that starts it all.
If you want to follow me on this journey through this thing called life, take some time to do a random act of kindness today. Stop by my cupcake page and indulge yourself for a bit. If you like what you see or have been inspired by this read, please vote right here by clicking on My Little Cupcake Short and Sweet! You can also click the cupcake Crown Icon to the right of this post. You can vote everyday until February 13, 2013 at 11:59 EST. Its more than winning to me. It’s sharing, it’s taking a risk, it’s enjoying the adventure even if the lemons are sour and expired. Now get out there and be all you strive to be. You are the only one holding yourself back.
So like hey there ladies and gents. I decided to spice up my life and with that adventure, well you all get to participate. I’m not talking taking a curry bath or rubbing cellulite with a cinnamon and paprika rub, I’m talking chatter. Blog chatter. This, that and some random chat.
So this little blog is getting all spiced up and launching….okay, I know…brace yourself, a weekly this, that and random chat section, post, forum, whichever you consider it. I think it is brilliant. I mean where can one go, gather and converse internationally about the random stuff of life. That’s right. This blog and right here at WordPress. I decided to Freshly Pressmyself by squeezing out some new content.
Therefore, each and every one of you will receive a Monday Morning Mojo Booster via What’s In Your Cup? Listen, share, read and laugh along. It’s open for anything. Suggest away, constructively criticize, rant, rave, throw down some smack or just listen and learn. So welcome to all my awesome and loyal followers, occasional viewers and accidental stumble upons. We are all here together. Now What’s In Your Cup?
Mine is overflowing with all sorts of things. First off, after surviving the 9 day rain hiatus smack down by Supetstorm Sandy, the weather was awesome this past weekend. Sunny and beautifuly breezey with 60+ temps, I could survive in this weather forever. So, no need to bust out the paprika and cinnamon rub with these temps. I devoted the whole weekend to my three sons. Not the black and white television version. The real life, in color and running around every town hosting a park or ice cream shop with my boys version.
Wow do they have some energy. Seriously, I think I conceived them with the help of the EB. Not the one who delivers plastic BPA free not eggs filled with processed chocolate on Easter morning. The Energizer Bunny folks. I am part to blame for all their moving, going, doing, seeking, jumping, running, never quitting personas but I do like an occasional sit down with a cup o’ joe while reading a good book in real print. See Kindle Bookstore Napper as to why.
I’ve had a few run ins with businesses that get me all fired up about joining their programs, events, seminars or classes and then close up shop. I mean come on institutions. For me, planning to attend something is worth the same amount of work as organizing a convention with the President of The United States. The only thing missing is a blessing from the Vice President and the presence of the Secret Service. So please, please don’t call to tell me you’ve postponed the event date or cancelled due to blah, blah, blah. I’m not hearing you.
I will be venturing out for an overnight mother daughter trip this weekend. I am excited and I do know it will be educational at the least. When isn’t a Rosa (my late Nonna) party of 6 a complete blast? Yet, I am thinking more, based upon the throbbing and continuous pain in my upper back and neck, that perhaps I need a retreat alone. Or maybe just a chair massage, ey? I really am a huge people person but lately, I’ve got the in need of some alone time bug. Ever have that?
I have the INO1SAT1. I checked the CDC and there seems to be no vaccine for it. Anyways, I wouldn’t get the vaccine anyway. With all the negative side effects, chemicals and high levels of mercury, I’d rather just lock myself in my bathroom with a six-pack of Christmas Ale for thirty minutes and call it a homepathic treatment retreat.
Anyways, I have all sorts of packing to do and I need to run to the craft store to get some bubble wrap for my suitcase. I wouldn’t want my luggage contents to get busted up in transport. Red wine tends to stain. Well you can expect some good content next Monday in What’s In Your Cup? with post trip informationals. Fun times ahead my friends.
So, in my cup today was a grande, soy, one pump, no whip mocha. And get this. I bypassed the usual drive thru Starbucks because I want to break routine and waiting in a drive thru line for 22 minutes really is ridiculous. So, I went to the closer location, right by my office. I figured it would get me to schmooze with the patrons and for some new Baristas to get to know me. Would you have it that the location was temporarily closed while they are moving to their new location, equipped with a drive thru. What? The whole point in my going there today was to get out and mingle, now they will have a drive thru and the yuck weather is coming and I will be all anti-social again. Did I mention that they were closed and twenty-two minutes saved turned into twenty-two plus ten more minutes lost?
Anyways, let me know Whats In Your Cup? I’m thirsty to know. Until next Monday’s Morning Mojo Booster, may your cup be overfloweth with all the possibilities to achieve your dreams. Drink up my friends!
So everyone I encountered and talked with on Monday morning, was having a day of $h*t! The more people I talked to, the more frustrated I became. Can everybody be this ultra-sensitive, sad and in “a mood”? I was convinced I would not let them bother me, because I was determined to have one helluva a good Monday!
After a commute from the pits of the earth, I plopped my dressed encased bottom into my faux leather chair and booted up my baby. Because really, can a computer fail you? No talk backs, no whines and no pangs. So, I started ‘er up and proceeded to email with one eye closed as to prep myself for any hate mail. I figured I might as well take a sip of my other baby, $5.00 in a cup, when suddenly the damn lid unlocked, causing the cup to crash to the desk and five dollars worth of liquid to tumble down on my dress, my keyboard, my mouse, the office carpet and my hard-drive.
Seriously? And I thought I was not going to succumb to the Monday of maniacs. After a trip to the computer software center, back to refuel at the local coffee joint and dodging through another mini commute to and fro, I began my workday at about noon. So, I decided, some things today are better just said with fingers and hands and hey even knees, shoulders and toes! So join me and let us order ourselves up a nice tall glass of I don’t give a f^*k!
10 Hands On Ways to Start Your Monday
1) Flip the Bird. Go ahead you know you want to! They did park their vehicle next to yours like a douche bag.
2) Talk to the Hand. Yes sir ree! Because everything you are saying makes you sound like an idiot!
3) Peace Dude! Because really I know you did not mean to cut me off in traffic.
5) Crossed Fingers. Please just let me get through this day.
6) Finger Curling Inward. Yes, you. Uh huh, come over here! I have something to discuss with you. Now please proceed to #1.
7) Pointing Finger. I am going to do it even though mother said not to. You should not be wearing that scarf around your neck because it looks like you have a small animal wrapped around you.
8) Okay. I will let you slid this time but next time, it will not be that easy.
9) Rubbing of the forehead. The sound of this voice is giving me a headache and it’s not because I am dehydrated from the weekend festivities.
10) Chin Gathering. I would ponder this for a moment but, YOU ARE RIDICULOUS!
Anyways, don’t talk Mondays can be implemented. Use the above gestures to communicate during the Monday Mayhem. If anything, you will save your voice for when it’s needed most. Like screaming at geese to get out of your way, because their crossing can delay you at least two hours. Really, I was told this once by a babysitter! Happy Tuesday y’all!
So the saying goes, “do unto others as you would want done unto you,” or something like that. Meaning, I guess, be kind to others and you shall reap kindness in return. I am a pretty good party host. Well at least I have been told so on a few occasions. I try to always make my party guests feel welcome and content.
I can usually allow for a few ice breakers via way of cornhole or a nasty fall by myself or one of my children. A wipe out usually leads to laughter afterwards and the socially awkward to mix. So, if you need any help in a future party planning event, give me a ring!
The best parties to me are when those that wearily come never want to leave. When they finally manage to head out by me nudging them out the door, their bellies are full, their jaws hurt from laughing and they made a few new friends. That to me is a successful party and a hostess job done well.
It doesn’t matter if you are a senior guest, middle age attendee, high school punk or toddler who just dragged your blanket, sippy cup and muddy feet through my kitchen, I aim to please! So, during one of my recent party gatherings, a nine-year old champ wants to know when I am cutting the cake because he has to leave. Well the ATP (Aim To Please) steps in!
So, I show the little guy the homemade delectables and promise to save one for him and his little brother. He cocks his head to the left, lifts one eyebrow like “The Rock” and says. “Yah, right!” Oh boy was I fired up. Is this little dude questioning my ATP? Back up boy! I will be at your home bright and early in the morning to present you with two of the world’s finest cupcakes. So, you best lower that brow and proceed on home! And not another peep!
So as soon as the Birthday celebrations were sung and the 28 fingers stuck, licked and re-stuck their fingers into the cupcakes, I snagged up two of them before my son even blew out the candles. I wrapped them and hid them so they would be fresh, unfound and untouched.
In the morning after Sunday breakfast I decided I would go deliver this questioning my ability lad and his brother their yummy treats. But oh shoot, where did I put them? I hid them so well I, myself, couldn’t even find them. So after a 30 minute stampede throughout my house and my tantrum seized, I found the Truffula Tree not so more cupcakes.
So on my way out for my 3 mile run, I was going to deliver the mini cakes to them. I went through their open garage and knocked on the “man door” (why is this called a man door anyway?). There was no answer. So, I knocked again and again and then rang the doorbell. If I had my Nike+ Fuelband on, it would have alarmed me that there was way too much inactivity going on. Oh wait, I don’t have a Nike+ Fuelband. Take note people, I WANT ONE!
Anyways, the over bearing, smiling mother proceeded from around the front of the house. Since my back was to her, she startled me to the point that I jump turned and slid on her “man steps” and dropped the damn cupcakes so I could stop myself from a nasty fall. “Oh my, are you okay?” she exclaimed. Yes, lady I am fine and here are your boys cupcakes. ENJOY!
Just then their new 65 pound puppy came running from the front yard as I was walking from the garage and jumped on me so hard, that I fell to the ground right on my rear end. She started licking the crap out of me and nudging and clawing me. All I kept thinking to myself was please get your dog off of me. I managed to get little Lucy off of me and get back on my feet just in time for her to pee on my brand, spanking new $139.00 running shoes. Then she must have wanted to thank me for relieving herself on my shoes, that she jumped up to give me a hug ripping my running pants from quad to shin. Oh my heavens, get me out of here!
Then bubbly wife’s hubby came running from the front yard and screaming to his wife, “Grab the water bottle and spray Lucy so she will stop jumping!” At this point I was back on the ground to prevent myself from another Lucy-Loo tackle attack and his wife grabbed the water bottle, so she thought, and starting misting us both. Yet, she accidentally grabbed the Windex bottle she greeted me at the “man door” with and was spraying us with that instead. Then her husband grabbed the real water bottle and was blasting us.
At this point I smelled of pee, dog and ammonia and was bleeding from Lucy’s nail laceration all while dripping wet. I ran to my car and locked the door from Cujo Lucy, cracked the window and screamed out, “ENJOY your cupcakes!” I got to the end of their winding 150 feet driveway, and thought, what the bleep just happened? Seriously people, your water bottle BS is not working and the gazillion dollars in puppy behavior school got you no where. Get control of your pup!
If I did have a Nike+ Fuelband, my heart rate would have skyrocketed to the point that I would have registered in cardiac arrest. My BP probably went from extreme high to low in 60 seconds as I accelerometered at light speed. Imagine the Nike Fuel I would have earned in 8 minutes! Good grief and now I am supposed to go for a 3 mile power run? All I have to say is, those boys better have enjoyed their velvety, cream cheese, cotton candy fluffed cupcakes! And they better never, ever question my aim to please skills ever, ever again! Check that Nike! How does it go? Life is a sport, make it count? I think that counts and please know, I love Lucy! No animals were harmed in the typing of this post.
May Day! May Day! That’s all I have to say. Seriously as if the title and distress call do not sum up this post. Yet, I know you want to stay tuned and I feel the need to confess a few things anyways.
So, just coming off a Cinco de Mayo weekend that was sunny, warm and festive in every way, I head into one of the craziest weeks yet this year. Thank you tequila and friends and their children and funky little monkeys. You do have to agree I can throw down a nice celebration and I am much better at cornhole with the wedge shoes off my feet and to the side. Yet, this past Monday began a whole new week, a new ballgame fully equipped with chaos.
I scheduled a long-awaited client appointment for Monday morning. Not super early as I knew I still had remnants of Cinco de Mayo coming out of my pores and the thought of a very long two-hour appointment without a large java load would not go so well. Then it occurred to me when I parked my business self into my leather office chair, that I needed to pick up my four-year old from preschool right about the time my soon to be client would be signing on the dotted line.
Yikes! Thank goodness a fellow busy, working mom and friend came to my rescue. When I finally grabbed the little guy after my appointment which created another fifteen To-Do’s in my head, I schleped him off to daycare to meet up with his two-year old brother.
Oh boy, maniac Monday calls for another java jolt. Then off to the office for more fun and another meeting with what is to become the most time draining client I will gain in 2012. There will be no sympathy from this man, no empathy and clearly he didn’t care that I had to get my nine-year old off a bus.
When I bolted out of the office, my car does a little ding ding. Shoot, mama needs gas. A 25 mile commute passing through every school zone and bus stop from office to “ruralsville” is not helping. The fact that I have a child who will be rerouted back on a bus to the school district transportation garage because mama is a no-show is not going to earn me the mom of the year medal.
So, while maneuvering through school zones, kids inappropriately playing in the street and cops that are pulling speeders over, I am dialing up every Tom, Dick and Kristen I could find. Finally I get a real person and through a sinus infection and partially lost voice, tell her to please yank my son off the bus and I will be at her house in a jiffy. I am also very concerned now because it was that easy to yank my kid off the bus without a note or call from mom. Don’t worry, I am saving this for a free pass when my boys get in a little bus brawl in the future. I am a mother of three boys so it is bound to happen at some point from K-12.
Anyways, it all worked out and now I have two dirty crabby boys to pick up from daycare, get them hosed off and fed. Then mama might be able to sit down and breath. Go ahead, deep breath now, I just did.
Tuesday I had a women in business networking event. I am sure I made a fantastic impression as I got caught in a T-storm so I looked like a soggy rat. Then when I went to give my 30 second introduction as to why these 350 women should do business with me, I hacked up a lung. Perfect. Can someone please tell which hole I can climb in now?
After a busy work day my son’s tee-ball game got cancelled and my husband suggested ice cream. I swear I wanted to cry. In fact, I starting whining so bad about how I did not want ice cream, I just wanted to go home. Then when I changed into yoga attire, all the men in my life gave me the evil guilted eye. Scorned I was but in about 25 minutes I will be laying flat on a yoga mat. Cheers to that.
But who does this? Who denies a hubby and three little boys an ice cream treat so they can bail and go to a yoga class? I did and boy oh boy I am feeling so darn guilty. Really I was and still am. When the zen started kicking in, I thought, what is wrong with me? I should be wanting to spend time with my family and here I am vinyasa-ing in 100 degree room with the post tequila sweats. Shame on me.
Needless to say I was going to run into the boys bedrooms and kiss them all good night as soon as I got home. Yet, instead, I tip toed into the house and made a b-line for the shower. My heart told me to go say goodnight but my mind told me to proceed directly to master bedroom. For the love of my boys, what is going on here? I have to admit though, when I finished the shower and found they were all asleep, I was somewhat relieved.
Later in the week, my son came home with a Progress Report that made absolutely no sense at all. I have seen all his tests and graded papers and they have all been A’s. So what was his teacher talking about when she said he was barely getting a C in reading? Huh? Well, little junior is still coming off his Birthday high and decided school was out for summer and not turning in work. So, I had to spend the next 4 hours playing catch up with him.
Now the only natural thing to do would be to send him to his room, right? Take a few toys away or even dismantle the Xbox controls. Nope, not this mom. I pack the kids in the car with snacks and drinks and head to spin class. I tuck them into the child care center and do an hour spin class. The spin ride was dedicated to mothers and I really started thinking, I have no right to have anything dedicated to me right now. What a selfish mother I am. Yet, it was either spin and work it out in my head or hit a brick wall.
The real kicker recently is when I got one child on the bus and then dropped my other two boys off at daycare. Then while proceeding to my office, I took a u-turn and never made it in to work. I worked out, went grocery shopping, bought mom’s day gifts and now I feel guilty and like the worst mom ever. Chalk that up as a vacation day, I guess.
I wanted to redeem myself. So I decided to wake up at 4:45 a.m. and make Belgian Waffles with a fresh blueberry compote topped with homemade organic whipped cream. After I used half the pantry of ingredients for the batter, I realized I had no more eggs. No worries, oil will do because the tofu was expired. Well let’s just say it was more like Belgian mash than fluffy waffles. Oh well, once the whipped topping is on, nobody will know the difference.
Then while the bacon was frying, I decided to load up the car for the day. The washer cycle was complete so I transferred the towels into the dryer. I was making good progress until I spilled my coffee all over me and the carpet. As I was changing and cleaning the carpet, the kids starting screaming followed by a British accented voice saying, “Fire! Fire!” Oh no, the bacon. I knew water is a no go but what was the other item to throw on a grease fire? Salt, sugar, flour, baking soda and oh never mind. Boys hand mama the baby powder. The kids ending up eating a Cliff bar and I told them to go sit in the garage while I air out the house. You want pop boys, go ahead. What the hell.
When I was making my way into the office from an appointment, I saw the cutest little senior couple enjoying a Gelato. It put everything in perspective. This is what this thing called life is all about. Just then, the sidewalk speaker kicked on and all I heard is, All I need is a Miracle. I couldn’t help but giggle. I really am blessed! Thank you Mike and The Mechanics which reminds me my check brake system light is flashing on my vehicle.
So, after skipping in and out of mom duty this week, I will have you know, I feel refreshed, better and plan on spending the whole weekend with my boys. In fact, I cannot wait to go to the park, roll around on the ground and cuddle with them in bed. Despite all my mom guilt, I think I have only scratched the surface as to how to effectively navigate through chaos. It starts with non-judging, taking time for me and most importantly, rest. It has made me appreciate my life that much more. Yes, I will admit, it is hard to be me sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I would recommend taking a mental health day once a quarter. Given what we juggle every day, four times a year to slack off, is what is going to make us better friends, people and parents.
So, I leave you with the quote of the week and wish you all a happy Mother’s Day! That like me, you find some time to feel less guilty and more refreshed. Because deep down inside, the chaos is what keeps us sharp!
“When in doubt, bacon is out and so are eggs for children under the age of one”
Happy Mother’s Day to all and to all a great weekend!