So my big weekend plan was to make the kids pick up the house so I can clean for next weekend's birthday party. The first order of business was to finally put away the Christmas decorations, but unfortunately some children playing mountain goats in the storage room created a serious avalanche. Fortunately, the only casualty was mommy's patience. Putting everything away with the room in that state would have ended up resembling the Grinch's sleigh after he stole Christmas and I just couldn't. I will spare you the long, mommy-yelling, kid-crying details, and just tell you that while the other 10 rooms in my house are still a disaster, my storage room is utterly immaculate!
I am sure we will manage to get things in so-so order throughout the week. In the end, I will shut the door to our frat house (aka downstairs kid's) bathroom and take pictures of the kids' rooms so that when they later claim their rooms were pretty clean until their cousins showed up, I will have proof that they weren't. I will get the upstairs bathroom in eat-off-the-floor condition to make up for everything else I don't get done. I will probably forget to buy something important for the party, I won't create pin-worthy cakes and decorations, I won't send every kid home with fifteen bucks in party favors, and there will only be a small need-not-want gift from me.
So do I feel like a failing, horrible mom for throwing such lame, uneventful birthdays? No, and here's why:
My girls will be happy and thankful for the blessings of a perfectly, simple birthday party because they are aware that they have more than most children in the world, and if they have forgotten that, it will be a great opportunity to teach them about thankfulness again.
Twelve years is such a long and short time all at once. Sometimes I feel like a different mom than that lonely one sitting in a rocking chair with a toddler on one side and a preschooler on the other side of her pregnant belly. That year and the two following were the hardest years of motherhood I have thus far experienced. They seem like a lifetime ago, yet it seems these two teenagers I have, invaded those little toddler and preschooler bodies overnight! There were days I would be told how fast they grow up and how much I should cherish those little people and it just made me so sad because I spent so much time dwelling on how much easier I hoped it would get when they were older. I hated that I was wishing that time away because I did love it all, even in its hardness. Because of this, I will never remind you how fast they grow up. You already know, just like I did. But hopefully, knowing someone with seven struggled like h-e-double hockey sticks with three will be just a little comforting to you today!
It’s that time of year again, the last few days of Christmas break when I get this crazy idea that I have time to do things. Things other than laundry, dishes, fight refereeing, kid chauffeuring, and bottom wiping. Suddenly, I think I will start sewing again, create a website to start a blog, and get my amazing app idea created....
So, that’s what I wrote ten days ago. And then I started doing all those things. I made a dress because my 5yo daughter had “nothing to wear to church for winter.” Now, I am sure you know what this means. Her closet is full. Unfortunately, it is all too short, too long, too ugly, too fancy, or too skinny. She isn’t too thrilled with the dress, so I got over the sewing itch pretty quick!
Since then I have been faithfully glued to my desk chair tackling my new blogging endeavor. Do not ask what my kitchen looks like or what I fed my toddler for lunch yesterday. The answers are flat embarrassing. But that is why I am here. It’s okay! I read all kinds of mom sites before beginning. Pretty quickly I got really tired of reading that I am awesome and great. I’m not, and most likely, neither are you. The prevalent message is that life with kids is a really big mess and really hard and really exhausting, but we are all super moms anyway just because we say so. The trouble with this is, no matter how many times we are told and tell ourselves, there is part of us that knows we aren’t. And here creeps in the shame and the guilt.
I am the mother of seven children ranging from teens to a toddler, living out in the middle of nowhere, USA. I aim to hone the craft of giving advice without pretending to have this whole mom thing figured out. I am Christian, but not the really nice kind that is good at it. I am also conservative, but I promise not to be in your face with political agendas very often. I like to infuse humor into my writing, so don't freak out if you are offended or appalled by what you read here. There is a very fine line between serious advice and sarcastic hyperbole.