Tonight, I was reminded and wrote the following Facebook post;

I have long said that Motherhood is full of shit.

Yes, it’s predominately the first 2-3 yrs of diapers, diaper explosions and toddlers who like to remove diapers. But it doesn’t end there. No! There are clogged toilets by overzealous wipers. There are overly excited kids who are too deep in play and don’t make it all the way to the bathroom. There are the over-confident bouts of gas etc. I will spare you the current details. But I am confident that I am not alone in my saying….

Yes, Motherhood is surely F.O.S!

Doing the Dance of the Children with rubber gloves on~

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On the way to work, this morning, I got a phone call. On the other end was one of my kiddos.
They said, “Mom, I forgot something.”
I asked, “What did you forget?”
Kiddo-”I forgot something at home.”
I replied, “Ok. What did you forget?”
Kiddo (whispering into the phone)-”I forgot my underwear.”

Thank you to beautiful people who are willing to go into my house, rummage through my dryer, find the underwear, text me a pic to make sure it’s the CORRECT underwear and then deliver it to the school in a bag, under the guise of it being “lunch”.

Doing the Dance of the Children~

I sent Max to bed last night, to get recharged and with the hope that he’d wake up and have a new perspective on his homework. It’s a technique that’s worked in the past. Today it was an utter failure. We sat for nearly 2 hours and got about 7 problems done. This is not because he is incapable of the work and it’s not because he doesn’t understand the work. It’s because he simply decided he wasn’t going to do it. Once he makes that decision, all bets are off! This is the same child that, as a 1st grader, hid MONTHS worth of homework under his bed. ~Sigh~

The best tactic I’ve found to keep my sanity when dealing with difficult children, is madness, goofiness, humor. A silly song about the situation goes a long way to break tension for all involved. I can choose to scold, berate or punish or I can Do a Dance or make up a rhyme. The number of times my kids have heard ridiculous songs can’t be counted.

Once my other children saw that Max was being difficult, it was like a Difficult Free-for-All. “My shoes are too tight”. “I don’t like this food”. “I’m freezing”. “I’m sick”. Name it, I heard it. I broke into song about peanut butter bread;

A little bread
A little spread
Gives us all a very good head

Hey, I have to make the point for the importance of breakfast, somehow!

Next it was scolding shoes that were too tight;

Bad shoes!
Bad shoes!
Why must you be bad shoes?!

I’m sitting here, knowing I need to start my work day and feeling absolutely drained from the last few hours of Doing the Dance! Perhaps a song will help motivate me;

Put on your shoes
Put on your pants
Put on your makeup and get on with The Dance!

I think Paulo Coelho said it best;

Doing the Dance of the Children~

Just finished hanging up and folding clothes with a lil help from Rod Stewart, of course. I have WAY more clothes when I actually get them onto hangers!

Gabi and Tristan came to spend the night. Max and Lex visited for a little while and I made a simple pasta dinner (spinach, red pepper and grape tomatoes in garlic, olive oil and white wine, with a white sauce, over bow tie pasta).

I picked up my book-Journey Through the Great Fast-and realized that I’ve missed quite a bit of reading lately. But reading the meditations for Holy Thursday and looking ahead to Good Friday, put me in a reflective space. It will be weird to be working on Good Friday. I honestly can’t remember the last time I wasn’t able to shut down with the kids and pray and reflect on that day. Tristan has asked to stay here, alone, tomorrow to have quiet time, pray and watch The Passion of Christ. I’m grateful that the seeds of faith our growing in him and that he recognizes, on his own, that the day should be solomn. I think I’ll take my lunch at noon tomorrow and go for a walk with my rosary.

I just realized that some of you might not know that I’ve started a new job! February 19th I started as the Marketing Coordinator at a local marketing firm, Tytanium Ideas and am working full-time (and then some). It’s been a really good transition for me and the kids and I are adjusting to our new schedule. I’m REALLY proud of them for helping me make this happen.

Ok, enough for now. I need to get to sleep!

Doing the Dance of the Children and of Lent~

So I’m ending today’s Dance with a lullabye that I’ve sung to each of my kiddos and that my mom sang to me.

Good night, sweet dreams and much love; Kateri, JJ (Clayton), Mariah and Maddi. I love you~

I see the moon and the moon sees me
And the moon sees the one that I long to see.
So God bless the moon and God bless me
And God bless the one that I long to see.
It seems to me that God above
Created you for me to love.
He picked you out of all the rest
Because he knew I loved you the best.
I once had a heart called mine you see,
But now it’s gone to you from me.
So take good care as I have done
For you have two and I have none.
I see the moon and the moon sees me
And the moon sees the one that Iong to see.
So God bless the moon and God bless me
And God bless the one that I long to see

Here’s the scenario;

One kid is doing something harmless, but that another kid finds annoying. So the annoyed kid tells the first kid to “stop___”. Kid one wasn’t doing anything wrong, but now does whatever the action was (and sometimes, it’s simply breathing “too loud”) extra, EXTRA annoyingly.

I am then caught between the kid who was needlessly annoyed and the kid who is now purposely being annoying. And let me tell you, it’s AMAZING how loudly a kid can breathe when they know it will further annoy a sibling.

Doing the Dance of the Children~

When I was growing up, I was surrounded by sisters. I’m the oldest of 9 kids and 8 of us are girls. My parents got their boy at the end. So, most of what I knew about kids when I became a parent involved what girls thought, felt and dreamed. As I began having my own kids, I was blessed to get a, nearly even split of boys and girls. And suddenly, most of my girls are out of the house and I find myself raising 3 boys. I’m still fumbling through getting a grasp on what might be going through their heads at any given moment.

The other day, Lex called me into the bathroom for some assistance and I found him sitting on the pot. He looked at me and then pointed to his thighs and said, “if I’m so skinny, why are my legs so fat?”. Fat?! There isn’t anything fat about this kiddo! I knew I had only that moment to help him see his legs differently. I explained that when we sit down our legs spread out a little and that what he was seeing where the strong muscles in his legs that help him run so fast and ride his bike so well and that because he does those things, his muscles get bigger and stronger and help him get even further.

He was suddenly proud of his legs! He told me how long he can jump on the trampoline and how fast he can ride his bike.

In that short interaction, I realized that boys struggle with body image, just as girls do. Yes, I’ve read articles about eating disorders occurring in both boys and girls and depression occurring in both genders. Of course, I know that boys aren’t  just pillars of confidence, roaming the earth. But I didn’t know that my, very fit and healthy 6 year old son, would be scrutinizing himself! I’m grateful he vocalized his wonder and that I was able to help him form a positive opinion of himself.

Lesson Learned!

Doing the Dance of the Children~

Max is an early riser too, so it’s often me and Max first thing in the morn. This morning, he asked me to make him a breakfast sandwich and while I was cooking, he said something about the tooth he had lost yesterday, which he left in the back room and made no attempt at putting under his pillow.

Max-”Mom, you owe me a dollar”
Me-”Why would I owe you a dollar?”
Max-”For my tooth”
Me-”No, you need to put it under your pillow and I’ll call the tooth fairy
Max-”Mom, I know you’re the tooth fairy. I caught you with your hand under my pillow, one time”
Me-”I often check my kids in the middle of the night”
Max-”R-I-G-H-T! Mom…you sure are good at picking your words carefully. I’m trying to trap you and you’re not falling for it”
Me-”I know”

Guess where his tooth will be tonight?

Doing the Dance of the Children~

These are Max’s old shoes. He was wearing them until 3 days ago, when I got a good, solid look at the bottoms. I drug him into the store to try on new ones while he boldly and loudly protested that his shoes were FINE.

“FINE…My SHOES ARE FINE! I like them like that. It’s not even raining so it doesn’t even matter! They are comfortable. I don’t NEED new shoes!”

We picked out the 2 pair that would be possibilities for him and chose one of the pair. But the next morning, he was back on the kick that the new ones weren’t right, the old one’s were perfect and I needed to just pleaese, PLEASE, P-L-E-A-S-E let him wear the old ones. I didn’t give in. He’s successfully worn the new pair for the last 2 days. However, if you see one of my kids wearing shoes with nothing left to them, keep in mind it’s not because I’m denying them proper footwear.

Kids!

Doing the Dance of the Children~

Today, I’m grateful for a network of people, working together to make Good Stuff happen for a beautiful life AND I’m grateful that I have a sister who’s a certified massage therapist, who is willing to come take care of rubbing all this life out of my right shoulder.

There is ALWAYS something to be grateful for.

Doing the Dance of the Children and of Life!

Here’s what I wrote on January 6th-

I’ve finally made my resolution. Yes, I could use a little weight loss. Yes, I could eat better. Yes, I could wake up and go for a run or a walk.

But my resolution is kindness. I resolve to act and speak more kindly, to try hard to make my first response a response that is loving and kind instead of sarcastic or heavy. I need this, my children need this, those around me need this. And to be honest, I think it would be easier to shed 30lbs than to think my words and actions through. So here I go…

Doing the Dance of the Children~

I’ve recently “liked” a couple of pregnancy and birth pages and they’re fantastic! I love all the amazing pics of women giving birth in the way and environment of their choice. They have photographers capturing all the wonder of the event and husbands/partners/co-parenting significant others (making terms up for things I don’t know the label for) are joining in, being super supportive and experiencing as much of the baby’s birth as possible. Then there are the breastfeeding pics and posts. All beautiful. There are many strong, amazing women out there that are making the decision to be fully present in the experience of becoming a mother, no matter the # baby it is.

Only one problem…

All this amazingness is making me feel like I never experienced giving birth or breastfeeding. There were no photographers, no uber supportive/rubbing my back/getting into a tub of water with me, husband-no tub of water for that matter. No home birth and heck, for my last birth, my biggest supporter was my 12 yr old daughter, who was great, but did her best to make sure she stayed near my head the entire time.

I breastfed while toddlers climbed on me, while I pushed a stroller with 2 or more other children in it, while I grocery shopped, while I made dinner, while I did mundane and needed household chores, while I was 1/2 or entirely asleep and there was no one documenting it and putting a lovely lens to the whole thing to show how beautifully natural, loving, life-giving and super fantastic it was.

I never had a belly cast made. Never took belly pics in my bathroom or bedroom mirrors (there were no “smart phones” with cameras) and never, once, had professional pics taken with the glowing and gushing father of all these kiddos. What the heck?!

How is it that I had 9 kiddos and am now feeling like all the new moms out there are sticking it to all of us Old Geezers who finished having babies too soon to be truly amazing? I don’t like it!

I’ll go thumb through the endless baby books, photo albums and scrapbooks that I put together on paper filled with lignin that’s slowly eating away at the only precious images I have that prove that in my day, we were as amazing as we felt we could be and it was pretty ok.

Seriously though-Here’s to you, Moms of the Next Era! You’re making me wish I could do it one more time.

Sincerely,
Mommy of Many

Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream, according to Lex is that “boys and girls would drink together.”