Humbled

This afternoon DH and I took our 3 oldest sons (10, 7 and 5) to see a children's play at a downtown theatre. It was, as always with this theatre, an amazing production. In the lobby afterward, as the other 200 children relished the chance to meet the characters in the play, or just simply put on their coats and readied to leave, looking all angelic, my sons played smackdown with the rolled up posters provided by the theatre.

Exasperated, I announced as we got in the car that we were not going to dinner, that children who couldn't keep their hands to themselves could not be trusted in a restaurant. Of course this was followed by cries and pleas "we will, we promise, please, please, we want to go out to dinner!!" So I said we would go, but if they didn't behave we would leave and they would have to reimburse us for dinner with money from their Disney savings (I can't tell you how many times I just typed that sentence and then deleted it out of utter embarrassment. But there it is, a shining parental moment for all of blogosphere to see).

At the restaurant we are seated next to another family with grown children. I am facing the grown son, who has disabilities. In fact, I am the only one in my family who can clearly see everyone at that table. Every few minutes he has a loud outburst, but he's not disruptive, he just is who he is. And every few minutes his mother reaches over and gently wipes his face with the napkin.

And smugly I think, I am so blessed.

But later, during my Sunday night insomnia (I can never sleep on Sunday nights, a whole 'nother post) I replay the evening over and over again. How incredibly smug, how unbelievably arrogant I was as I sat there watching my boys color and "behave". I am blessed, don't get me wrong. But so was that mother. She was also humble. And graceful. And respectful.

When will I be that mother, the one who takes in stride her child being a child, and merely gently wipes her child's face when needed?

Very Funny Friday...

It's not a far jump from blogger to carnie, apparently. so here I go, I'm going to try Sue's carnival from http://borrowedlight.blogspot.com.

You can laugh, at me, right here since it's obvious I don't know how to seamlessly add the link into my blog post.

Or you can choose to torture yourself further and see if this is a Very Funny Friday, or just "Something I Thought Was Funny on Thursday":

I went to dinner with my 5 cousins last night. They are like sisters to me, and our times together are always filled with laughter -- the kind of laughter that makes you cry, and snort.

Last night was a celebration of sorts. A ta-ta ta-tas party we called it since one cousin is going in for a breast reduction on Monday. And while she's at it a quick tummy tuck, really just so she's proportioned -- I mean who wants perky boobs and a baby gut?

On her home calendar she writes "teeth surgery". Here's the ensuing conversation between she and her 16-year-old son:

Son: "What are you having done again"

Mom: "I am having my breast reduced (audible gasp and cringe from son) and a tummy tuck"

Son: "What's a tummy tuck?"

Mom: "It's when they suction all the fat out"

Son: "So when it's over, will you be taller?"

Mom: "Um. Taller? No, I won't be taller, I'll just be thinner."

Son: "I don't understand how you won't be taller."

Mom: "I don't understand what makes you think I'll be taller..."

Maybe you had to be there, but I just thought that was guffaw-worthy...and if you didn't, how about this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYBYjM7nMoA

That makes me guffaw, and boost my self-confidence.

Why I Work

I work as a marketing/communications consultant, about 10-12 hours/week over 2 days. I mostly work out of my home office and have had the same wonderful, beautiful, mother-of-full-grown children watching mine while I work for all these years. Why do I work, you ask? Could it be the cold hard cash? How about the ability to interact with adults? Using my brain for something other than ring-around-the-rosy? Nope, none of the above.

I work because every week Betsy takes my piles of clean laundry from this:

to this:

And that rocks!!

Chicken Scratch

Yesterday we received a note from my son's 2nd grade teacher. Apparently the students were to journal about what they would do if they were "stuck at home." The teacher's instructions apparently included that they could be silly. Here's what my son came up with...


What do you mean you can't read it?

Clearly though, it says the word 'fart', which, apparently, is inappropriate. So, um, does that mean the teacher is not concerned with the fact that my 2nd grader writes like a chicken?? And also cannot spell. Well, he can spell fart, Lego, and Wii. Yep, that's my chicken. I mean son.

I'm a Little Bit Country, I'm a Little Bit Rock N Roll...

So I suffer from split blog personality. Haven't heard of it? The medical term is blogophrenia, and I am a sufferer.

I read hysterically funny mom blogs, ones that make me laugh out loud. I think, hey, I'm funny. Yet I can't seem to come up with a funny post.

I read very spiritual mom blogs, ones that inspire me. I think, hey, I'm spiritual. Yet I have nothing to inspire my reader (yes, that's singular on purpose).

I read fabulous mom blogs that remind me how much I cherish this time with my children. I think, hey, I'm a good mom. Yet I have no clever way to share my parenting advice, if it's even worth sharing. Then I think hey, I've used the word 'hey' far too many times for one blog post.

Then there's the blogs that I can't compete with at all -- those of very crafty moms who can recover a chair, while scrapbooking. I have scrapbook stuff, and chairs, but that's as close as I come. And the blogs of mom's who love to cook and are very good at it (that's you my one blog reader). I have trouble with boxed brownies.

But I like all these things, and I try them all in real life! Is that enough -- to try to be funny, spiritual, clever, crafty and a good cook...or should I stick with one thing and make it my own?

Maybe for 2009 I will work on liking and appreciating my blog self just as I am -- a little bit country, and a little bit rock n roll, and a little bit r&b, and a little bit gospel, and a little bit adult alternative...

While I was using the bathroom...

...my baby daughter opened and ate an entire bag of Hershey's Kissables. All that was left was a blue puddle of drool on the kitchen floor.

Norman Rockwell has left the building...

For the past several years we have spent New Year's Eve as a family, just DH, myself and the 5 critters. We have dinner, then play board games, then we gorge ourselves on chocolate fondue and sparkling cider (the real stuff for me and DH). Last night was no exception. We looked forward to it all day, each child picked a board game of their choice, I prepared the fondue dips.

It was very Norman Rockwell-ian.

Until it wasn't.

Oldest son's game of choice was missing an integral piece, and choosing another game? Well, I may as well have suggested he do homework. Critter #2 and critter #3 argued over who won more games of Zingo. Critter #4 only wanted checkers, not understanding why everyone couldn't play. The pokemon DVD board game fell apart when someone pushed the wrong button on the remote. Everyone cried at least once.

So we gently ended the evening, without having a chance to discuss resolutions, and put everyone to bed. More tears. More whining. My resolution became "next year I'm renting the children from the Pottery Barn catalogue for the holidays, they're never fighting!"

Then DH and I decided we would have another glass of bubbly and watch a lighthearted romantic movie. Notsomuch...I picked P.S. I Love You. Shoulda watched the preview, since it's a really sad movie and cried through most of it...

The good news? The edges of last night's memories have softened, DH said this morning "it wasn't too bad." And the kids are already asking when we can have another fondue/game night...maybe by 2010 I'll remember it fondly too!

Happy New Year!!!