Farewell to the Bad Mom Week

I am the first to raise my hand and admit that I have bad mom days now and then.
I think for the most part, it just comes with the territory.

Bad mom days are normal, they happen.
They are for learning and growing and doing better next time.


I get bad mom days, but a bad mom week?


My first sign should have been when I showed up to Samantha's 18 month check up. Our doctor came in and said hello, then he immediately looked at Sami and said,
"Oh, not feeling well today?"



Huh? I wondered to myself.
Sure enough, a big fat ear infection.

I sat there scratching my head...
did I miss a fever, pulling on the ear, fussiness?

Apparently I did.

Nothing like putting your child through unnecessary pain to make you feel like a heel.

Rachel was my next victim.
We'd had a few late nights of baseball in a row. By Wednesday night the whole family was exhausted. So Thursday morning I decided to let the twins sleep in and go to school late. All they would really be missing was their weekly trip to the library, I told myself.

They woke up around 9:00 and got ready for school. During breakfast I had a great idea!
"Let's run over to Fantastic Sam's and get your hair cut." I said.
"I'll bet there is no line right now."

Rachel was instantly hesitant.

Already rattled that I had let them sleep in, the idea of missing one more minute of school was causing great distress.


She reluctantly got in the car.
On the drive, she reminded me that
"Bad things happen when you skip school because it is against the law".

I was right about no line at the hair place.
We zipped in and out so fast that I even offered Rach the luxury of getting her eyebrows waxed.

BAD decision. BAD, BAD, BAD decision.

This is what poor Rachie's eyebrows looked like.


Burns framed her eyebrows.

I was horrified to say the least.
She could barely blink, let alone go to school.

Like I said previously, nothing like causing your child unnecessary pain to make you feel like a heel.

I came home, closed the door to my bedroom and cried.
I apologized to my poor Rachel over and over. I should have listened to her.

In all the trauma of the week I managed to forget two very important events for Lincoln.
Yes, they were clearly marked on the calendar.
Yes, people were counting on him.
Yes, I feel terrible.

Sprinkle all of this with fast food for dinners and turning a batch of whites into a lovely shade of pink and that about sums up my week.

There is some good news.
Today is the beginning of a brand new week.
Today is a fresh start, a chance to do better.

Here's to nutritious meals, white whites, wound and infection free kids, keeping commitments and no skipping school.

Here's to a good mom week.

See Sam Chapter 2

See Sam.

See Sam swing.

Sam loves to swing.

Sam has a special swing.

It is the same swing Sam's daddy used to play on when he was small.

"Wee!"  "Wee!"  "Wee!"  squeals Sam.

Swinging makes Sam smile.

Swinging makes Sam happy.

Some days it is raining or snowing outside and 

Sam can't swing.

This makes Sam sad.

"Peez wee wee wee Mommy", says Sam.

"Not today Sam", says Mom.

Today is a warm and sunny day.

Today is a perfect day for swinging.

"Wee wee wee?" Sam asks mom.

"YES!"  answers mom.

"But first you have to get in the bath tub."

Sam races to the tub.

Sam wants to hurry, the wee wee wee is waiting!

Sam has a quick bath.

Sam gets out of the tub.

While Sam dries off, mom goes upstairs to get Sam's clothes.

When mom comes back she can't find Sam.

Where is Sam?

"Oh dear", sighs mom.

Sam has opened the screen door.

Sam is on her way to the wee wee wee.

Sam's mom is not happy.

Sam's mom tells Sam that it is a good idea to get clothes on before leaving the house.

Sam disagrees.

Sam feels mad.

Sam cries.

Mom scoops up Sam and takes her into the house.

Mom gets Sam dressed.

After Sam is dressed, Mom takes Sam outside to the swing.

Mom gives Sam a big push.

Up, up, up.  High in the sky goes Sam.

Swinging makes Sam smile.

Swinging makes Sam happy.

Happy Sam.

Happy mom.

She is Rachel

This girl, I love.

She is thoughtful.

She is kind.

She is smart and responsible.

She is my Little House on the Prairie and 

Anne of Green Gables partner.

She is brave.

She is confident.

She is goofy.

She is nurturer and babysitter.

She is mud pies and princess crowns.

She is baseball and ballet shoes.

She is a good friend.

She is grace.

She thinks her dad is perfect.

She is work first, then play. 

She is goodness, she is purity, she is light.

She is Rachel.

My sweetheart, my joy, my precious daughter, my friend.

What A Woman Wants

Dear Husbands Everywhere,

This post is dedicated to you.  

Your friend Kimberly is going to give it to you straight.

Today I will be revealing what a woman really wants.

You may have seen various magazine covers as you wait in line at the supermarket.    

You know what I'm talking about.

Headlines that claim to know all the intimate details:

How to Spice Up Your Marriage

or

Ten Ways to Please Your Woman

Perhaps you have been tempted to open those tawdry pages for a sneak peak inside the complexities of the female mind.  

Now you no longer have to wonder what your wife needs, what she secretly desires.

Here it is in all its drama and glory.....

A ROOM!

  

Yes, I said a room!  

Not just any ordinary room, a special room completely reserved for your wife and ONLY your wife.  

A place where she can think, create, write, scrapbook.

A haven where scissors and scotch tape stay put,

paper is organized according to color, pattern and size and 

chocolate is in abundance. 

AND (are you ready?)   this  is the MOST important part.....

kids are only allowed to enter by special permit on the 

rarest of occasions.  

(example- nap time for one year olds)

It is mostly a simple process.

1. Designate a room. 

2.  Get her a new computer.  Free of kid games, free of your church files, 

basically free of anything that she does not want on it.  Make sure it has a large monitor so that she can see clearly with no need for glasses.

3.  Take her to IKEA where she will choose her own furniture and accessories.

4.  Stay up all night putting together her choices, even if you have a case of the stomach flu.

5.  Leave her to it.

Satisfaction. Guaranteed.

She will appreciate your thoughtfulness.

She will be humbled by your kindness and sensitivity.

When your buddy calls with a last minute tee time,

 she will cheer, "Yes! Yes! Please go!"

When you get home from a late night at work or church, she might be waiting with a perfectly grilled steak followed by a foot rub.

Before you know it, you will be nominated for Husband of the Year.

Yes, my manly friends, we do love romantic vacations, diamond earrings and 

shopping trips. But for day to day living, you cannot beat a space of your very own.

It is definitely what a woman wants.

Very Truly Yours,

Kimberly

PS Special thanks to my personal nominee for Husband of the Year. 

 It was the most thoughtful gift I could imagine.

You are simply the best and I love you.

Growing Up Is Hard To Do

Remember these sweet, angelic little beings?

Yes, they are still sweet and can be angelic on occasion but mostly,they are eleven

 years older and wiser.

Older and wiser has meant many different things over the years.

When they were two, they left diapers behind and moved on to underwear / panties.

When they were five, they left tricycles behind and moved on to two-wheelers.

Somewhere along the way they left Clifford the Big Red Dog in favor of Sponge Bob Square Pants, velcro fastened shoes turned into laces and baby teeth were replaced by the permanent kind.

I reluctantly go along with this growing up business because I really don't have much choice. I have tried stomping my feet, shaking my fists and demanding that they stop growing.   As much as I would love to halt time cold, in its very tracks, I can't.  

Well, tomorrow is another one of those momentous occasions that has the potential to put me ever so close to the edge of irrationality and mental unsoundness.

One word:  SNOWBALL

The 5th grade is taking a fieldtrip to a skating rink wherein at some point the DJ will play a slow song.  He will also announce that it is for couples only.  Boys and girls will then pair up, HOLD HANDS, and skate.  This process is also referred to as the Snowball.

WHAAAAT? 

I have tried to remain calm and free of emotional agitation as we have discussed  this whole concept over the last couple of days.

I clenched my teeth together when Rachie admitted that yes, there is a certain boy who she would like to skate with.  I felt a rush of relief when she then said, "If he doesn't ask me, no big deal."   I didn't slump over dead from heart failure and thus felt that I handled that portion quite well.

Part two of the set required a little more sensitivity and decorum as girls just barely stopped having fleas in the last few months.  After some serious discussion over a piece of carrot cake, Lincoln and I had a very sweet and top secret conversation.  Sigh, whew, deep breath, prayer of thanks... 

He is not planning to hold hands and skate with anyone.

Last night at dinner Lincoln proposed an idea to Rachel, "Maybe we should just skate together."   I wanted to cheer and applaud!  But Rachel very sweetly reminded Lincoln that she would like to keep her options open.

So, we'll see what tomorrow holds.  

Snowball.  I don't like it. In fact, it is a term I now regard with disdain. 

Oh Clifford, velcro shoes with the little lights in them, baby teeth and tricycles...

I miss you.

Letting kids grow up, it's hard to do.