mamaaaaa!!!

Moms. This weekend, we recognize you.  We recognize me, too.  Because I'm a mom, you know.

So a few sentiments for you here.

http://1x57.com/2012/05/03/letter-from-a-mother-to-a-daughter/

Any of these will get ya, not only in sentiment, but probably in laughter.  I can't just link to one, because they are all really great:

http://skitguys.com/videos/theme/mothers-day

And now my thoughts on this most blessed holiday.

Being a mom is hard work. The fighting.  The crying.  The spills.  The forget-what-I-just-told-you-five-seconds-ago-ing. And we haven't even gotten to the kids yet. :)  No, but really, it's tough. Juggling schedules and extra activities and changing diapers and doing laundry (I have a fantastic husband who does laundry and washes dishes and even occasionally cooks to help me out.  It's okay if you want to be jealous.)  It just gets overwhelming. It's rewarding, but overwhelming.  You can lose your temper easily if you're wired that way (I am.  It's just the truth, people).  Patience can be short.  Grace can be lacking.  But love is great.  And prayer is strong.  And I've also read if you just put a big brown paper grocery bag on your head while you're getting kind of upset, it will really just calm everyone down.  So we might have to try that sometime around here.

But one thing that really gets me in mommy-ville is...

poop.

Poop, poop, poop. Stop reading if that alone has grossed you out.  Just go away and have a happy Mother's Day.  Stop back by in 7 months when I finally blog again.

Poop.  Diapers. Some days, I will clean up dog poop.  Then change a diaper. Then more dog poop. Then the bigger kid will "hold it" too long and have a small accident. I would NOT be lying if I told you the other day, I was cleaning up a small human's poop out of my carpet-- and it wasn't even from the littlest little in my house!  I'm not jokin- I  was bawling huge crocodile tears and crying out loud, and sounding seriously like a child (I know it, I thought it myself "I sound like a child").  I knew it should be funny, but it wasn't.  Not yet.  And it still isn't, yet.  It wasn't fun.  The littles were quarantined to the bathroom-- for the sake of avoiding poop smears everywhere, and for everyone's sanity.  The knight in shining armor came home at lunch and bathed them and made things all better.  I shampooed those carpets and steam cleaned the bathroom and bleach cleaned what I could....It was bad, y'all. Poop.  In. My.Carpet.  POOP!  gag.

And let's just talk about bathroom-ing in general. #1? #2? Just blowing your nose? Taking a bath? Whatever. It doesn't matter.  Those sweet angels just come on in.  There's no privacy.  If you need to use the bathroom, get ready...because mamas are gonna have a....

pottyence.

not an audience.  A Pottyence.

If someone else has coined that phrase, you're a genius.  But for now, I'm calling it my own.

What is it about those moments?  If I'm sitting here with you, child, you could care less about my presence.  But heaven forbid I get up for 2.7 seconds to pee fast enough to break a world record...I mean, the world's gonna fall apart if I'm gone that long!!! So you come with me. Pottyence.  I know some people's pottyence clap for them when they have success going potty.  My littlest little isn't potty trained yet, so he doesn't do that.  But still.  Gotta love that pottyence.

For all the crap that is in my house (pun completely intended)... there's more good stuff than bad. :)

Good stuff like hearing my 5 year old read out loud.  Or tell me he likes me best (even though it isn't a contest and if it were, his dad should totally win.  but it's mother's day-ish. So I win.

Or having my 3 year old grab my face when I'm changing his (ugh...poopy) diaper-- he will pull me close to his face and say, "I huv you mommy.  I give you a kiss.  Eye kiss? (butterfly kiss) Esimo kiss?"  I mean. What are you going to do there?  You're gonna love that poopy diaper because well, it provided that sweet moment with a usually pretty swift moving 3 year old.

The poop in the carpet I could do without.  The kids who provided it?  Never.


Happy Mother's Day to all you mamas!