For All The Moms

"If you can't be a good example, then you'll just have to be a horrible warning." -Catherine Aird-


No one ever told me...

... How long stretch marks would last, or that my body would be "different," even after getting back to my pre-pregnancy weight.

No one ever told me...

I'd learn to function on 3 1/2 hours of intermittent sleep, or that I'd quickly learn the necessary skill of juggling things like calming a screaming baby, taking a telephone call, picking up a toy-strewn house, quieting a barking dog, refereeing children, and starting a load of laundry .. all at the same time.

No one ever told me...

It would take 3 times as long to leave the house. That simple errands would become major chores .. grocery shopping would become my definition of "an outing," taking a drive at 2 a.m. to get the baby to stop crying could be acceptable, and eating dinner while it was still hot would be considered a luxury.

No one ever told me...

there would be so many self-proclaimed experts, continually telling me what to do with my child, pointing out everything I was doing wrong.

No one ever told me...

I'd very likely cry at the drop of a hat.

No one ever told me...

that hearing the words "I love you too mommy" would make a bad day turn good in an instant, or hearing "I missed you mommy" would make me feel so happy to be home.

No one ever told me...

how fun a trip to the zoo, a movie. or even the grocery store could be ... when seen through the eyes of a child.

No one ever told me...

how the smallest things, such as a child first noticing the dust floating in a ray of sunlight, or the raindrops dancing on the windshield could bring me so much happiness, or that hearing the words "I have a date" could instill so much fear.

No one ever told me...

I'd struggle at times to maintain my own identity, or that I'd need "alone" time ...

No one ever told me...

I'd burst into joy as my child reached milestones, or that I'd secretly grieve over those same accomplishments, as they signified the departing of my child's fleeting innocence.

No one ever told me...

I'd have a second shadow ... following me around everywhere.

No one ever told me...

that before I knew it, my littlest shadow would be independent of me.

No one ever told me...

that time would move so fast.

No one ever told me...

I'd appreciate my mother so greatly.

No one ever told me...

I'd come to the reality of my own mortality.

No one ever told me...

I would be so overwhelmed, so awestruck, so excited, and so nervous.

No one ever told me...

I could love another being so fully, so completely, so selflessly and unconditionally.

FOR ALL THE MOTHERS-
This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer games instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see my goal?" They could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick children in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Meyer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here."

This is for all the mothers of Kosovo who fled in the night and can't find their children. This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see and for the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.

For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes and for all the mothers who don't.

What makes a good mother anyway?

Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?
The jolt that takes you from sleeping to dread, from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

Is it the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying?

I think so.

So this is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn't.

This is for reading "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then reading it again, "Just one more time".

This is for all the mothers who mess up. Who yell at their kids in grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired two year old who wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started to school and for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.

For all the mothers who bite their lips (sometimes until they bleed) when their 14 year olds dyed their hair green.

This is for all the mothers who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won't stop.

This is for all mothers who show at work with spit-up in their hair and milkstains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

This is for mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home or are grown.

This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their children's graves.

This is for all the mothers whose children have gone astray and who can't find words to reach them.

This is for all the mothers who sent their child to school with a stomach ache, assuring that they would be just FINE once they got there, only to get a call from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up right away.

This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And mature mothers learning to let go.

For working moms and stay-at-home moms. Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money and mothers without.

This is for you, so hang in there. The world would be a terrible place without the love of mothers everywhere. You make it a more civil, caring and safe place for the precious children in our world.

~~ Author Unknown

Just Another Thursday Morning,...oh wee oh

Open my eyes, look at the white paint on my ceiling and close them again. But not for long. The baby's cries don't allow for another five minutes of sleep. Without opening them, I flip the blankets off my body, damp from trying to keep the room at the perfect temperature so she won't get any sicker than she already is. I sit up, rub the sleep away with the back of my hand, and say good-bye to the amazing dream I was having.

The babys' wails stop for a split second as she looks at me, the blues of her eyes sparkling in the dark, and for a second it's almost as if she knows, "Momma's finally up and I'm going to get fed."
I leave the warmth of my room and quickly make a bottle, starting the coffee pot while I wait for the water to warm. I can hear Alex talking to himself in his room and I tell him to be quiet and not wake up his brother. "Twenty minutes before it's time to get up, Bub."

Back in my room, I settle down on the bed, cradle the baby and give her the 7 oz of formula. Her head roots back and forth until she's happy with the position of the nipple and in no time she's gurgling and moaning as she inhales the nasty smelling liquid.

I watch her eyes roll back into her head several times. Maybe she'll go back to sleep. But as soon as the noise of air sucking form the bottle starts, her eyes brighten and she pushes the bottle from her mouth. With one swift motion I bend her forward, pat her back once, and a gassy burp echoes through the room. Yummy. Ingested formula oozes from her mouth. I grab the nearest thing to me - the t-shirt I discarded the night before- and wipe the curds from her mouth.

Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I flip it open. Almost 7am. I disable the alarm and shake my head. Time to get the kids up for school. Laying the baby down on the soft pallet of blankets, I kiss her forehead. I tell her to hang in there and leave in search of clothes.

Armed with clothes for the girls- I found in the basket of unfolded laundry from the night before, I head to the girls room. Angels. Wrapped snuggly in their blankets they resemble little cherubs. The quiet of the room awes me. But as soon as I flip the light on Jalynn pops up from the bed and smiles. "G'morning Mommy. Is it time for school?"

"Yes baby. Get up, get dressed, and meet me in the kitchen."

Gabi isn't as easy. Several whispers of her name turn into me nearly shouting. The girl does not like to to be woke up. Finally, she opens her eyes, sits up, and gives me a crooked smile. Her blonde hair is sticking in every direction and I stifle a laugh. "Get up, girl. Bus'll be here in twenty minutes."

With both girls up and stripping off their pajamas I head to the boys room. Alex waits for the light to come on, then shoots out of bed. He's definately a morning person. I however, am not.
"Mom? Are we late? Is this bus coming? Can I wear my new clothes? Will you put gel in my hair? Did you know that there was a full lunar eclipse last night and we missed it? Do I smell coffee? I heard the baby crying this morning. Did you feed her 7 oz or 5 oz of formula? Is she still sick? Can I play with my spy gear when I get home? Is today a good day to wear my hiking boots?"

I stare at him, hand him his clothes, roll my eyes. "You do talk a lot, don't you?"

A glance to the top bunk bed shows Jeremy has coccooned himself under his bedspread. Probably to drown out Alex's chatter, which to my guesstimations started about 5:30am.
"Jeremy? Jeremy?" My voice grows a little louder. "Jeremy, it's time to get up. Jeremy? You have to get up. You'll miss the bus."

"JEREMY!" Alex yells. I'm assuming in what he thinks is an effort to assist me.

Jeremy pulls the blanket from his head sending death glares at Alex. "Shut-up you idiot!"

I want to reprimand him for calling his brother an idiot but at this point I can't blame him for feeling that way. I toss Jeremy his clothes. "Hustle boy. Bus'll be here in fifteen minutes."

I go to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee. The aroma drifts with the steam into my nostrils and I breathe it in. I glance out the window. Ground's still covered with an inch or two of snow and the bald branches of the trees are now encased in a thick layer of frost. Spring, where are you?

Gabi and Jalynn bounce into the kitchen and I take them to the bathroom to get their hair done. By now the baby has decided that she doesn't like the lack of attention and the country music playing on CMT is not enough stimulation. Her coos turn into whimpers and then angry cries.
I finish Gabi's hair and start in on Jalynns when Alex calls to me from the kitchen. "Uh Mom? I have diahrhea and I can't hold it."

"Go then." The words are barely audible with the barrette clamped between my lips.

"Jeremy's in the bathroom," he whines.

I sigh. "Then use this one."

"Oh Gaaaawd." Kirstan moans. She's standing beside me straightening her hair in front of the mirror."Does he have to come in here?"

"No.He can poop in his pants and then you can clean it up."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

I turn Jalynns head away from the toilet and tell Alex to hurry up.

"I think I have to go. I don't know. It's not coming. Did you know that we have gymn today? And that the teacher said if I'm good today I can have recess? And the sun is coming out earlier now. Do you think it's almost spring? Ooooh here it comes."

"Enough, Alex. Please. I do not need a play by play." I send Jalynn off to get her coat and bag, crinkle my nose at the stench he's gifted us with, and flash Kirstan a knowing grin. I can see in her face she's holding her breath.

I tell the kids to get their coats and bags on, and notice Jeremy staring at his reflection in the tv. "Jeremy get your stuff or you're going to miss the bus."

He turns and gives me a blank stare then nods his head in that cocky manner he sometimes has. "I look good today. Don't I mom?"

"You look great, now get your crap together."

Alex is sitting at the kitchen table as I pour myself another cup of coffee. The baby's still crying in the bedroom and I just want the kids to hurry up and get going so I can get her and soothe her.

"Hmmm, feels like we're forgetting something." Alex utters.

I look at him over the rim of my coffee cup and raise my eyebrows. "Hmmm?"

"Don't you think it feels like we're forgetting something?"

"Mom!" Gabi hollers. "Jeremy just spit on me!"

"Jeremy. Do you want to go to bed when you get home?"

He grins and shakes his head. "I didn't spit on here, I just did this." He puts his lips together and shows me what is most definately a passive aggressive spit.

"Knock it off." I mutter.

"Mom are we going anywhere today?"Jalynn asks randomly, as she hikes her back pack onto her shoulder.

Yeah. Crazy. Wait I'm already there. "I don't know."

"Hey mom. Feels like we're forgetting something. Something important. REAL IMPORTANT." Alex says again.

"What?! What are we forgetting Alex?" Is the bus here yet?

"Our meds?"

Crap. I forgot to give Jeremy and Alex their ADHD meds.

"Jeremy, come here." I pull out the meds, pour a glass of water. "Open." jeremy opens his mouth and I shove the pills in. As he drinks I look out the kitchen window and see the bus coming. Mmmhmmm. Now it's here. Urgh. I give Alex his meds, and send them both to the door.

"Mom, I have to poop again."

I look at Alex and shake my head. "You can't. The bus will leave you. Do it when you get to school."

Then they're all out the door. Kirstan flies by me, makes a kissing sound and tells me to have a good day. She leaves the door wide open.

I step out onto the snow covered porch- in bare feet- to grab the door. I notice Alex running as fast as he can to the bus. Hope he makes it to school in time.

Inside the house I go to the baby. The moment I pick her up her cries stop and she grins at me, her unsteady head bobbling back and forth. "Sorry bout that, Baby Girl. Your brothers and sisters are cra-Z."

I go through the house in search of my coffee cup. I just had it. Where did I put it? On the way I gather discarded shoes, gloves and hats that litter the entry way. A random sock that someone drug out to the living room? I put it all away- baby in my arms breathing steady- eyes taking in the world around her. Just happy to be in my arms.

Coffee. Cup. If I was one where would I be? That's when I remember that I'd had it in my arms when I shut the front door. Yep. And there it is. Sitting on the bench. I take the last sip of it, run it to the kitchen, lay the baby in her bouncy seat, and head to the laundry room.

Two more loads and I might actually have all the laundry in the house done for once. I try not to think about the pile of clothes in Kirstan's room.The one that she told me the day before not to take because some of the clothes in it were clean.

Quickly I pull the clothes from the dryer, then start on the washing machine. Hmmm, something smells really good. I don't remember the laundry detergent smelling this good. I pull clothes out and switch them to the dryer and the smell drifts around me. Wow it smells really goo...Then I see it. The empty container with tinker bell stamped on the outside. It's sitting at the bottom of the machine. Taunting me. Lip gloss. And ofcourse all the gloss is washed out of it. I pick it up and bring it to my nose. Yep. That explains the smell.

I could re-wash everything, or put it in the dryer and hope there are no stains. I look at my empty laundry room floor. So pretty. Haven't seen it in weeks. I shrug, clothes the dryer door and turn it on. I don't even care at this point.

As I leave the laundry room feeling rather proud of my progress with the laundry, the cat runs under my feet. Not once, but twice. Zigzagging a path of destruction in front of me. I side step to the left, then to the right trying to avoid her. The moment of chaos ends with a loud yowl from her and me cussing the furball.

Coffee. I need more coffee. But first. Have I peed this morning?

In the bathroom I look at my reflection in the mirror for the first time. Lovely. my nappy hair is straight in front...not bad, but the back is one big rats nest of tangles. Hmmm. Sure the bus driver got a kick out of that. The bags under my eyes indicate either the lack of sleep or the level if stress I've been under. I poke at the swollen flesh under my eyes then my glance drifts to my hair. Gray's? Growing out already? Has it been that long since I hilighted my hair?

I look at the box of dye sitting on the counter. A quick trip last night into walgreens for Mountain dew, dog food, and formula resulted in a hasty purchase of Natural Insitincts 'Hazelnut' hair dye. Hmmm. Maybe I'll do it later.

I suddenly remember why I came into the bathroom. I make quick work of it, then check on the baby as I pass by on my way to the kitchen. More coffee!

The steaming liquid refills my mug and I let out a sigh. It's really quiet. Leaning against the counter top I close my eyes and slowly sip the brew. The only noise in the house is the steady tap tap of a pair of jeans rubbing the inside of the dryer. Quiet. Finally.

A whimper breaks through my bliss. The baby is ready for more attention. I open my eyes and glance at the clock on the stove. 7:45 am. 55 minutes into my day and I'm exhausted.