MOTY

I believe that I am a major contender for Mother of the Year. Any other nominees should walk away now.

Right around lunchtime, as I was still in pj's and visiting with a friend, I received a phone call from the children's school. It seems today was early release. And I had a couple of daughters in the office waiting for their mother to retrieve them.

Early release? Really? In my defense, I am not used to my children attending a school where the parents are competent enough to know on their own that today was an early release day. Where we came from we received notice of early release days on ALL days that preceded the early day. And besides, we had early release every Wednesday, but still, I forgot to pick up oldest daughter on one such occasion. Perhaps you remember?

Also, I have 3 baskets of laundry waiting to be folded. What you don't know is that it really equals 4 loads of laundry, because I managed to stuff 2 loads into one of the baskets.

Additionally, I have dried milk spots on my table from this morning's breakfast. Eventually I will get around to washing them off.

Along with the forgotten daughters, neglected laundry and ignored table, I have one canine badly in need of a shampoo and cut. But really, I am not her mother- so maybe that one should not apply to my candidacy for Mother of the Year.

Furthermore, the children roamed the street (yes, street- singular) of our neighborhood, without parental supervision. And climbed on the logs that house rattlesnakes apparently. (this according to Don, caretaker of the church behind our house- who I met just this afternoon. And he informed me that the Mormons are starting to take over the world. But this, only after he learned I am a Mormon myself. It was a lovely exchange.)

Plus, I haven't showered yet today. But, hey, there are still a couple hours left before this day expires. Right?

On second thought, maybe I should kiss Mother of the Year goodbye.

Although, I did let them watch PolkaPalooza on PBS this evening. And they square danced. Until one of the children flung the other to the tile. And tears were shed. And the Mother of the Year candidate sent them all to bed. Because she needed a little peace and quiet.

So, I wanna know: What did you do today that could rival my bid for Mother of the Year?

Lucky Number 13

I have a friend who reads my blog who told me that it seems to him that I have a perfect life. Perfect marriage, perfect family.

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It was never my intention to portray perfection- because I am far from it. But, I was hoping to achieve a sense of reality on this blog, and that means taking the good with the bad. Naturally I have a tendency to focus on glasses 1/2 full. There are times I experience perfect moments with my family. And I love those. But, there are also times when our experiences are less than perfect- times my mom card is in serious jeopardy of being revoked. This past weekend, however, was not one of those. It was perfect.

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The husband and I celebrated 13 years of marriage yesterday. Over the weekend we snuck away to a beautiful resort in Scottsdale, while my kind sister watched after the children.

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We had moments to reflect on our 13 year journey and came to the conclusion that we have been blessed beyond our wildest comprehension. But there is always room for improvement. And so we set goals and committed to do better and to be better.

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And we talked. The deep soul to soul discussions I so desperately want to have everyday but are often interrupted by the children when we are at home. And I told the husband that I often feel a sense of pride when he succeeds. Or when he is able to solve a problem. Or when he is entrusted with sacred responsibilities. And I often find myself exclaiming,

"THAT is my husband"

in those proud moments.

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And we played basketball in the pool. And I remembered what a hottie athlete the husband is.

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When I was in high school, I penned an impossible list of qualifications for my future husband.

Some of those qualities I set for the imaginary man were:

someone who respects his priesthood and family

self-respect

sense of humor

kind thoughtful

sincere

good listener and talker

love for the gospel

active in the church

goals

spontaneous

respectful

gentleman

responsible

understanding

adventurous

creative

good looking

intelligent

share feelings openly

hard worker

respects my decisions

spiritual

friendly

supportive

and on and on and on

*

The day I got married, I had only known the husband for just under 4 months. And it didn't take me long to discover that I had been given the bonus husband. I came to find that he not only matched, but far exceeded, every quality on the list. Daily, as we interacted, my internal dialogue went something like this:

"WHAT?!? He has that quality too???

I never knew he could do/ say/ be like that!!

How am I so blessed?"

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And I am. Blessed.

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This evening as we celebrated our family's 13th birthday with the children- a tradition we have had for the past 4 years- I looked at their sweet faces, thrilling at blowing out the 13 candles and thought to myself,

"Yes, this is pretty nearly perfect!"

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Post-edit (9/1/09): this morning oldest daughter said, "I can't believe our family is a teenager now!"

Recycling

Last week middle daughter's favorite amusement was an airplane she made out of the big and empty diaper box. She colored on it. Sat in it. Scooted in it. I tripped over it. Stepped on it. And accidentally put a hole in it when I was kicking it out of my way after tripping over it and stepping on it.

It was a mess. Pretty much destroyed after I landed on it. But she continued to occupy its little opening and "fly" around to her imaginary destinations- all on our family room floor. (I'm just glad little son didn't decide to fly it down the stairs)

I threw it in the recycle bin one night after she was tucked snuggly in her bed- on the floor. I don't know why, but she prefers to sleep on the floor. We have a perfectly good bed for her. She likes the floor. So, each night she retreats to her bedroom, takes her 4 blankets and lays them out in the proper order- thus preparing her little bedroll. Silly girl. And every night as I am going in to go to sleep, I check on my little camper. And there she is on the floor- snug as a bug ON the rug.

Saturday morning she came into my bedroom- bright and early- and crawled into bed with me. The husband was away at Youth Conference, so there was a little room for her. We were both awakened an hour later by the sound of the garbage truck. Middle daughter ran to my bedroom window, which faces the street. How lucky can you be to have your master bedroom at the front of the house? Right off your driveway and over your garage. Pretty lucky.

As the magic hand reached out and grabbed our bright blue recycle trash can, middle daughter could see her airplane as it slid out of the trash can and into the cavernous compactor truck. Oh, no. For the good part of Saturday- it was all about that airplane that was now on its way to a recycling center somewhere. "Who threw my airplane in the garbage?"

I don't know. Who would have done such a thing?

And sometimes I think I am being so sneaky.

When have you been caught red-handed? Or are you smarter than I am?

P.S. I have not changed a diaper for ONE WHOLE WEEK!!!! This is the first time in 6 1/2 years that none of my kids are in diapers. I believe this is why we are celebrating Thanksgiving next week. That, and I am thankful we won't have to deal with this when little son is 32.

A Mother's Lament

At the end of the day
when you're tired and worn.
The children in bed
and a fresh new morn
Dawns tomorrow.

Do you ever feel
like you failed the kids?
That you didn't do
what your mom always did
So lovingly?

The day in review
is a shame to relive.
And you'd rather have shown
the love you should give
Unconditionally.

But tomorrow dawns new
and is open to change.
Your children forget
and give love in exchange
So naturally.

A mother is better
by the moments she takes
To love her small children
and learn from mistakes
Penitently.

I just have this moment
it will never return.
And these small children
have so much to learn
From me.

Examining myself
I have resolved
That I will be more
of a mother involved
In their learning.

Give extra hugs
and tone down the voice.
Spend more time
and make a better choice
Tomorrow.

A privilege it is
to have children to love,
To be a mother on earth.
and their Father above
Adds His guidance.

Mom Card in Serious Jeopardy

I am operating under a suspended mom card. Please don’t judge me. Let he (or she- we are equal opportunity here) who is without forgetfulness cast the first frying pan.

You know how yesterday was Wednesday? Wednesday. Yeah, Wednesday. The day oldest daughter gets out of school early. 1:00- EVERY Wednesday. And that’s what day it was yesterday.

1:15 the phone rings. Oldest daughter’s school was on the line: “Hey, did you remember that it was early release today, because it is Wednesday? We have oldest daughter here waiting to be picked up.”

Hello?! How could I have forgotten?

I wake up little son from his nap (the one where I had just put him in bed 10 minutes earlier), tear middle daughter away from planting weeds in a flower pot outside, and strap them in the car.

Rushing into the office, some lady (a teacher, I guess?) says, “You know, we have early release EVERY Wednesday at 1:00.”

Thanks, I know that.

The last thing I said to oldest daughter when I dropped her off at school Wednesday morning? “It’s early release today, I’ll be here at 1:00.”

H-Mon in Da Howse

Can I get my mom card back? I took oldest daughter and got those Hannah Montana shoes. (hence my totally white mom, feigning teen-coolness title.)

Before we went, we were discussing the shoes and she actually asked, “Which ones do you want me to get, Mom?” It kind of pricked me a bit. I realized that she really wants to please me.

To be sure we could find the appropriate size and style we went to a different store on the evening of my last post, and funny thing, little son found the exact same four-sizes-too-big shoes that he did at the other store and wore them around till a decision was reached on oldest daughter’s shoes. Which, really, took no time at all, since she went for the same shoes she had her eye on and we found a pair in the right size. She was beaming. All smiles. I was biting my tongue and smiling and reassuring her on her BRILLIANT choice of shoes.

I should be spanked, though. I saw a pair of Tinker Bell shoes with a VERY INCONSPICUOUS little Tink on them. That is the answer! A character shoe with barely any mention of the character. I slyly pointed them out to oldest daughter. She scarcely gave them a glance and continued with the tying of her first love- Hannah.

It was a good thing that the husband went with us, he acted as my moral support and reminded me of the importance of letting her make her own decision. (I think there may have been something in “the Plan” about freedom of choosing for one’s self?)

It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized just how excited she was about her purchase. She got up first thing and put on those shoes- with her pajamas- and wore them all day. And then, of course, yesterday was the first day of school and she proudly donned her shoes, talking about how much her friends are going to love them. Oh, my sweet little oldest daughter.

So, we have Hannah Montana shoes at our house and I have found that I am not suffering because of it. Life can still be wonderful, even when your child wears those ghastly character shoes, and my pride is still intact.

Middle daughter starts preschool the beginning of September. A promise of school shopping has been made. This includes a trip to the shoe store. Heaven help me…