Monthly Archives: September 2010

Pine Tree Perfume

Alas, it has been days since I have written.  Have there been a number of rambling things on my mind?  You betcha.  Has there been the energy to write them down in blog form?  Not so much.  But, just to give you something, I thought I would include this little nugget from BQ a couple days ago.

We had just parked the mini (yes, the swagger wagon), in the parking lot of Fred Meyer.  As it takes FOREVER for my children to get out of their seats and out of the car, professional dawdlers, there is usually some conversation or chatter that occurs.  This time I heard BQ’s voice from the backseat and ended up in the following conversation.

BQ  “Ooh Mommy, look at that beautiful Christmas tree.  It’s blue my favorite color.”

Me  “Where do you see it?”

BQ  “Over there in that car.  It’s hanging from the front mirror thingy.  Could we get one of those for our car?  It’s so beautiful.”

Me  “Maybe someday sweetie, maybe someday.”

Oh yes the joy and magic that a $.99 cardboard car air freshener can bring to a 4 1/2 year old.  And her favorite color to boot, that’s right.  But no ladies and gentlemen, I will not be subjecting my sweet ride to one of those anytime soon.  Somehow the addition of a nauseating floral or baked good smell to the regular aroma of the mini doesn’t seem like such a good idea.  Even if it is in the name of looking good.


Slow Learner

Me.  I am the one who cannot seem to remember why I don’t do certain things with my children until I am there, in the situation, repeating the offense.  After dragging the ladies to Target I decided to reward them with a fun lunch out.  Fun?  Maybe for them it was, but let’s just say I left with elevated blood pressure and the need to do some deep breathing exercises.  All ability to behave was gone.  It was absolutely unbearable and with a price tag of $15 not cool.  Once again, I’ve learned my lesson.

Oh and just as the tension and rage in my body was almost completely gone, I heard this gem from BQ after I asked her to carry a single bag into the house that contained one pair of cotton pants (for her).

“Fine I’ll carry it. Why do I have to do all the work around here?”

Um, what?  I believe there were three heavy bags in my hands plus a big thing of toilet paper.  But, whatever.  Of course then it hit me that this very comment may have escaped my lips during a weak moment of “woe is me” mommy desperation.  I can still take away a privilege though, right?  🙂

So next time I have the brilliant idea to take the girls for a little lunch date remind me that I might have more fun actually flushing $15 dollars down the toilet.  Maybe I’ll get it one of these days.


Maybe I’ve talked about this before, maybe I haven’t.  I can’t remember so if I have feel free to continue on to the next blog in your Google Reader.  At any rate, lately the concept and idea of waiting seems to be a daily battle.  I’ll explain.

Most obviously right now is that I am waiting to be unpregnant, I mean meet my baby.  26 weeks today and I am feeling like I have an eternity to go.  As much as I joke about the fact that I am OVER being pregnant and ready to be able to drink as much caffeine as I desire (oh wait a year of breastfeeding to follow…) what I am truly waiting for is my sweet babe.  Last night I asked The Doc when I could set up the bassinet and still appear to be sane.  He responded with a lame day about a week before the baby’s due.  I was not so thrilled, but know he’s right.  I just want to fast forward through the next three months of waiting so that I am holding, loving, and kissing on my sweet little one.  So I’m waiting there.

Then there is the waiting that I do with my 4 1/2 year old.  I keep waiting for the day when the tantrums will be no more.  Waiting for her to realize that if she wakes up with the urge to scream or hit things she probably should turn back over and sleep some more.  WAI-TING, people!!

With Molé at 2 1/2 I am waiting for her to listen at a level more appropriate for an adult.  I’m waiting for her to not have to touch everything and then put her fingers in her mouth.  (yuck).  I wait on.

The “waits” of parenting can be summed up in the fact that I am basically waiting for when it gets easier.  Know what I mean?  I think we are always looking at people with kids a year or two older and thinking, “Oh my gosh, they have it sooooo much easier.  I can’t wait until my kids are that big!”  How inaccurate is that?  When I see the parent of a toddler looking at me like I have it easy simply because my kid isn’t eating bark at the playground it makes me crazy.  Moms with newborns fret over their first flight with their three month old in tow thinking it will be the hardest thing ever.  Do I burst their bubble and explain the concept of traveling with a 14 month old?  We are always waiting, comparing, and hoping that someday we will wake up and our mothering will magically be easy, right!?  And yet, that kind of waiting is a waste of time.  Waste.  Of.  Time.

The truth is, if we are good mothers, the type of mothers that we say we want to be, it will never be easy.  We will always wonder if we should have done things differently when the outcome is not ideal, will choose to make our children mad if it is in their best interest rather than giving into what they want, and lose sleep at night waking up to help a child to the bathroom even though it would be tempting to put her in a pull-up and shout down the hallway “just go in it!”  We don’t want to settle for being lame moms, because dang it the job is way too important and these crazy/wonderful kids are too important.  That fierce love, that ridiculously unrelenting passion we have for our children is not something that is easily shaken or shed.  It is there to spur us on to be better than we think we can and to love more when we are empty.

I’m stuck waiting for my baby and as much as I can’t wait for the birth, I know that these weeks ahead as a family of four are ones I want to savor.  And goodness, I am not going to waste any more time waiting on easy.  I have two little girls, people, can you say tween and teen years?  Good grief.  Talk about a disservice to each other as well.  Can we just settle with a truce that basically proclaims being a mom is hard?  No matter what the age or stage, it is really hard.  And if you are doing it right it isn’t going to get easier.

So stop looking over at your neighbor and her “perfect” children or thinking your life is so miserable compared to all the other moms you know because of your child’s stage.  Embrace it and affirm both yourself and your friends.  Mothering is hard and that is something we all share.  Now that you know that you don’t have to wait for the easy part.