Mom and Boys

Figuring it out one day at a time.


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Mothers Day 5k.

What a great way to start out my Mothers Day.

Most often Mothers Day is kind of family day.

But this year a group of us got together to walk the Mothers Day 5k.

Friends, friends moms, friends kids, my kids.

It was fun.

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Lincoln did not want to wear his tiara (it was an all women’s race, it was going to be his clever disguise).

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Bizarrely Inappropriate

mama-bear

Today we all left the house for a much-needed break.

The kids and I tried to escape on our own and got about 3 houses down before getting stuck.

I’m so ashamed.

After getting back in the drive-way we called Isaac and admitted our defeat.

He had mercy on our locked-in, cabin-fevered selves, and picked us up for dinner.

God bless him.

We went to Chili’s and as we were eating a waitress (not ours) came up and commented on our adorable small child, Bo.

I don’t think this is weird, I make cute kids, so I thanked her and then she was on her way.

Later on in the meal Bo started crying and I had no choice but to feed him in the restaurant.

I don’t mind breast-feeding in public, but it is a little awkward.

But this waitress kept walking by our table looking for Bo.

Um, he is under my sweatshirt gnawing on my breast, do you mind not staring?

This happened once or twice and I just thought I may be imagining things because I am a little self-conscious about feedings in public.

But then, after Bo finished, she walked by again and said,

“I know this is really weird, but do you mind if I hold your baby?”

Um, yes, as a matter of a fact, I do.  First of all, I am eating.  I haven’t left the house in upwards of 48 hours, I finally have two hands to work with because I just finished feeding an infant, AND this is ice cream, so I would like to eat it now SO IT DOESN’T MELT.  Second, I don’t know you!  You could have the bubonic plague for all I know.  This is an infant, he is not even two months old, as much as you think I want your stranger, diseased hands all over my son, I DON’T.  Lastly, I STILL don’t know you, and you seem weird, because no one in their right state of mind would come up and ask a mother, who they don’t know, if they can hold their very tiny infant son.  See me women?  I am mama bear, this is my cub. Now back the F up before I get all gangster on your a**.

So obviously, what I actually said was,

“Sure, of course.”


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Weekend To-Do List

  • Clean my disaster of living room
  • Clean the disgusting bathroom
  • Dust
  • Do the dishes
  • Go through my extreme tower of mail from the week and pay my bills
  • Do the 3 HUGE piles of laundry from the last two weeks (that is right mom, if you are keeping track, no laundry has been done in this house since you left)
  • Clean out the Gerber Vanilla Stars that spilled into my purse/diaper bag* a week and a half ago
  • Make a grocery store list
  • Go to Costco and see if I can find anything on said list for cheap
  • Go to Walmart Market for the rest
  • Put away groceries (I loathe this)
  • Fold laundry (also loathe)
  • Put laundry away (lets be real this will not happen, and the clothes will remain folded on the love seat for a week before I get sick of it and actually walk them a room away to put them into drawers)
  • Make baby food for the week (a little ambitious considering I have been pretty lazy about this lately)
  • Drive to the gym and cancel my membership because I just bought a treadmill (yay!)
  • Touch base with friends in some way shape or form (probably lunch or something)
  • Find a few minutes for myself (check, this is it)
  • Do all this while keeping a baby happy, healthy, entertained, well fed, and napped

Welcome to the weekend…

Whoever said this was time off was crazy.

Literally

crazy.

At least someone is getting some rest…(my brother’s dog, Dragonlips)

 


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Mom Rule #1

It is really tough to have rules for and eight and a half month old, I pretty much call all the shots at this age.

Until now…

As I was feeding my little terdlet tonight on the couch, which I am certain has nothing to do with the fact the high chair had yet to be cleaned from the night before, the little stink kept grabbing for a book on the other side of the sofa.  After a continuous struggle of refocusing his attention on his food I finally wised up and removed the book from the couch.

Well, the resourceful little terd then managed to find a frisbee on this same couch.

Hello, new fixation.

Not learning from my past mistakes, I kept taking the frisbee from his hands and moving it further from him on the couch.

The obvious move would be to also move the frisbee to a new out-of-sight location.  But I enjoy making life difficult for myself.

As a result I kept catching myself saying the same few words.

“No toys while eating.”

“No toys while eating.”

“Not toys while eating”

And there it was…

My first rule.

 

 


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Relating to Mary

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. – Luke 2:19

This may be a stretch, and I know our stories are in no way comparable, but I couldn’t help but relate to Mary this Christmas season.

I think it is the judgement more than anything.  I am at peace with my decisions.  I  love being a mother regardless of the circumstances.  But I know others have opinions.

Sometimes this weighs heavier on me than others.

And sometimes I feel alone.  Treasuring all the moments with my son and pondering them in my heart.

But it should be our hearts.

I had a wonderful first Christmas with Lincoln.

But maybe all holidays with him will be bittersweet.

Always wanting more for him.

Not in possessions- but in life.