Sunday, March 29

Life in Motion 13/52






 *A portrayal of life, in motion, once a week for 52 weeks* 2015

12: "I wonder if I could power our ceiling fan."
5: Best $4 I have spent, in awhile. Army men are priceless. He's been carting them everywhere.


thanking Jodi









 

Sunday, March 22

Life in Motion 12/52

   

*A portrayal of life, in motion, once a week for 52 weeks* 2015

I never learned how to swim. I have a small fear of water. I am trying to be okay with them in the water. Have to breathe sometimes.

We did Spring Break. Lazy rivers full of sweaty bodies. Puke in the kiddie pool. Thankfully, no string bikini's on 4 year olds. It was our first time staying over night at a water park. Bonus: clean towels any time you want them. 

 
thanking Jodi









Sunday, March 15

Life in Motion 11/52

 *A portrayal of life, in motion, once a week for 52 weeks* 2015

They are determined. They are adventurous. They are always on the edge.

Go. Play. See.

First park trip of the year. People complained about how horrid the winter was. To me, it was short. And not really that horrible. It was cold. It was how winter was supposed to be.

Spring brings muddy shoes and sticky faces. They will bring live animals (some with wings) into the house. We will nap after spending the afternoon playing in warm sand and sunshine.

I am so ready.



thanking Jodi









 

Monday, March 9

Life in Motion 10/52


*A portrayal of life, in motion, once a week for 52 weeks* 2015

12: But, mom, I'm too old for the Discovery Center.
5: Always building higher.

So tired of talking or thinking about the weather, but....it's melting. 

We succumbed to buying a pass for the Discovery Center again (after taking an eight month break). They have an annual Easter Egg hunt which Mr. Sunshine is looking forward to. Unfortunately, this will be 12's second year of being an onlooker since he's too old. He's been appreciating holidays in a different way lately. We've explained that sometimes its better to celebrate for others. He loved being a "Santa" helper last Christmas.

I wish I was in control of the ticker to stop the clock. They're both getting too tall, too big and myself too old. I miss childhood.





thanking Jodi 









 

Thursday, March 5

For Better or For Worse

Dear World,

He is the better parent. Honest. I'm not trying to spit shine his shoes.

I see my faults often. I don't think anyone else sees them but me (well, they don't say anything).

He is the player. The go-getter. The drive 7 hours by himself, with both boys, to another state doer. He is the one that suggests to sign them up for #allthethings. He is the one they miss the most at the end of the day.

I try and I question. I love my children. Which makes me an okay parent. He does and he is. Which makes him a great parent.

I think 26 would've been a better age. That is when we had Mr. Sunshine. Our finances are linked to that year. We were on our feet. Both of us were working. Mr. 12 (6 at the time) was in school all day.

I didn't factor kids into the picture. I didn't want to have them in the sense I didn't plan on having kids in my teenage mind. It was filled with, honestly, no ideas. No goals. Just a bit of indifference and a lot of questions.

Then we were stupid. (Seriously, there isn't another word to put here.) 

I was too young. But I was only 19. Not really that young. He was younger. Yet, older.

And I slipped. And he pulled me out of the water, no matter how many times I screamed at him to leave me alone. Yet, he stayed. Often, on the other side of a door.

He is the better parent. He is the better person. I have no idea why. Of our two childhood's, he had the worst one. He didn't have many role models. He just knew what he wanted. He'd become a parent again if I said yes. Many times over.











Tuesday, March 3

1940's Sitcom vs. Nonbeliever

     The door opens and a father whistles as he walks into his white picket fenced house. Cue aproned wife with immaculate hair who smells like cherry pie. Two, well behaved and clean, children calmly walk down the steps to meet their father with proper greetings. They all kiss and walk through the
swinging door to the kitchen, letting the smell of a 5 course dinner drift out.

     Now let's add some color to the black and white.

     The door opens and a father walks into his peeling, white apartment. Cue wife, in day old pajamas, sitting on couch or no wife at all. She's at work in order to pay for that new white paint. The place smells like dog, dirty diapers and that odd smell of 5 people living together. There's a child screaming in the kitchen because he doesn't want to do his homework. Another in the refrigerator (with the freezer open, too) and a third eating the food out of the dog dish.
     Dinner is the take out Mom will bring home after work or Dad can order pizza. Quite possibly a microwavable dinner from Aldi's/Piggly Wiggly/the-cheapest-grocery-store-there-is with a side of whatever kid #2 will pick at, kid #3 will feed the dog and kid #1... where did kid #1 go? He was supposed to be doing his homework...

     We've seen that picture floating around on Facebook.  There's a kid coming out of every orifice in some form of chaos.


     I'm not saying that parenthood is that bad. But it definitely is not Scene A. Well, maybe if your husband's a doctor and or if you have the Mother Goose Syndrome (I made that shit up).
     5 out of 10 women have kids outside of marriage. 4 out of 10 raise kids by themselves ( I also made that up). So out of 10 women you have a 10 percent chance to marry Prince Charming and live the fairy tale (depending on what your fairy tale dream is).
     I don't know about you, but I've never seen Snow White wipe poop off her one year old's nursery wall because he/she found inspiration. Or miss her 6 year old's kindergarten graduation because her 8 month old is teething and the babysitter list is one name long.
     Now why did I have kids? I was the stereotype, irresponsible teenager who forgot to wrap it up. #2 came to be because I figured that I survived the first one and the hell why not? It's the "thing" to do. The house, marriage and kid package.
      I recommend that if you see having children as Scene A, then DON'T. Nothing on television comes even close to reality, even the reality shows. There are no commercials (but plenty of re-runs). If you can't picture handling Scene C without losing it, then you might not make it. Not to mention you have to survive pregnancy to begin with.
     Life itself is chaotic without kids. Add a kid or four and add some gray hairs. Another living being is in your care and you could screw it all up at any moment. No matter how many parenting magazines or online doctor articles I read, most of the time I'm winging it. It doesn't feel like it gets any easier as they get older. Age equals more responsibility for them which turns you into nervous wreck and makes you over think if you've prepared them enough.
     It's not all bad. I will give you that. There are first smiles (which are usually gas or blowouts) and first steps, first tooth, first kiss, first car, and first date. You get to play with Matchbox cars, watch Scooby Doo and eat Spaghetti O's. Make-believe is the new you. Santa Clause and all those magical creatures are real again. You give your kids all of you and they give you laughter.
     You just learn to go with it. If you don't, you might lose it and some days you do. Things get broken, lost, stained or time seems wasted.
     Life happens. Frame the smiles. You won't regret it.










Monday, March 2

Life in Motion 9/52

*A portrayal of life, in motion, once a week for 52 weeks* 2015

We are pinky swearing to take a nap next week. I have it in print. 

Today was the first of four basketball practices. He is getting better at dribbling while moving. I am hoping he is more coordinated that I am.

The Man makes enduring practice easier on me. He keeps a running commentary. Versus me spacing out, while staring at the clock, because watching 20 five year old's chase balls is oodles of fun.

No picture of Mr. Pre-teen this week. I didn't want to fight over it.


thanking Jodi