Friday, May 25, 2012

F is for Feelings

On Fridays I like to talk about Fashion or Fun date night ideas but yesterday something happened that made me want to talk about *gulp* feelings.

For me feelings is the actual F word.  I really don't like to talk about feelings.  Nope.  I don't.

But yesterday my daughter had her kindergarten end-of-the-year celebration.  Kids love any reason to party and this reason, in my estimation, is a good one.  School is almost out (yes, I'm one of the moms who can't wait, not one of the ones stocking up on alcohol to get me through the next couple of months).

So the celebration had what any six year old celebration has: juice, cupcakes, and just enough organization for it not to be totally chaotic.

Here's the thing.  I was late.  Really late.  I had a doctor's appointment and traffic was bad and I was late.  To make matters worse, I forgot the cookies.  Seriously, what mom forgets the cookies?  Needless to say, by the time I got to the party room I was willing myself not to blink so I wouldn't cry.  I really hate crying ruining my make up.

Even though I was late, I was just on time.  You see, this group of 22 little balls of energy were gathered on the reading rug watching a video their kindergarten teacher made about them.  Silly stories about what they want to be when they grow up (M said a cheerleader) and what they like to do in school (which one kids curtly replied, "nothing".  It wasn't my kid.  My kid wants to be a cheerleader and cheerleaders love school).

Anyhow, I'm watching these kids giggle and sigh and bounce around and it hit me.  This memory of a billion years ago when I was one of those little balls of energy watching a slideshow (an actual slide show ... the kind with miniature pictures you hope aren't in upside down that you have to click through) my kindergarten teacher made about my class.  "We Are The Children" was playing in the background ... on a tape recorder.  There were pictures of me standing next to "Tessie Toothfairy"--the class mascot we got photos with when we lost a tooth.  There was a picture of Brook's broken arm (I'm at least 48% at fault for the arm breaking. Gravity and a dangerously tall teeter-totter are also to blame).  Mike. Jeremiah. Jessica. Casey. Karla. Jason. Kevin. Bylle-Jo, Billie, Daniel ...  Oh how I remember the fun we had learning that S-S-S is for skunk and Q-Q-Q is for ... well, I don't remember what Q was for in kindergartner terms but it was probably quail.  I'm not sure why we need Q in kindergarten.

I sat on a rug with my little friends oohing and ahhing and giggling over my class's collective cuteness but in the back of the room, there was a mom.  My mom and she was fighting back tears.  She loved that celebration.  That slideshow. That song.  She wrote a letter to Miss Mueller thanking her for all she had done to help me become such a big girl (total sidenote: when my mom was dying Miss Mueller scanned that letter and sent it to me in a Facebook message.  She kept the letter for over 25 years.  Words are powerful stuff.  I can't express how I felt seeing those words--her words about me in her penmanship).

Watching M as my mom must have watched me, I lost the battle to those rouge tears in my eyes and I thought the thought I think so often.  I wish my mom were here.  She wouldn't have been late.  She wouldn't have forgotten the cookies.  She would have loved this celebration.  Loved seeing M blossom into such an amazing future cheerleader.

These were my feelings though.  My brokenness.  M was fine--so happy I was there (so excited they'd get to eat the cookies for snack on Tuesday since it was too late to dish them out now).  The truth is I remember loving MY mom being at my celebration.  Sure it would have been nice if my grandmothers had attended too but my memories are of my mom.  And she was there.

While I wish my mom was at M's celebration with me yesterday, I know for my daughter, one day she'll be glad I was there for her.  Even though this was an "I wish my mom were here" moment for me, for M, I'm so glad it will be an "I'm so glad my mom was there crying at that silly video" moment. Even if I was late.

It's tiny but this is the letter addressed to Miss Mueller  from my mom after my kindergarten celebration. I still get goose bumps when I see this.  Words live long, dear friends. 



Wednesday, May 23, 2012

What I Think About: THAT Mom

Moms are probably some of the most judgmental people I know.  Those who breast feed judge those who don't (and vice versa).  Those who stay at home judge those who don't (and vice versa).  We judge the mother of the dirty kid at McDonalds and the mom bribing her kid to stop throwing a tantrum so she can get out of the grocery store.

Lucky (?) for me, people judge me most often in a different way.

People like to come to my house and look at how clean and organized it is.  And then they like to make believe that I have it all together because my floor is mopped and there are no smudge prints on the window.

It is true.  Thanks to a sound training in home cleanliness from my mom mixed with some early tendencies toward OCD, my house is clean.  Eat off my floor--I dare you.

But don't put me in the "she's got it all together" box.  I don't live there.

Most days, I am THAT mom.
  • Sometimes (and by sometimes I mean 9 times out of 10) I don't remember to tell my kids to wash their hands after they go to the bathroom or before they eat a meal.
  • I will let my son watch shows on my iPhone so I can grocery shop without a meltdown.
  • I've left my son in an aisle in Target when he threw a whopper of a tantrum (yes, I peeked from the end cap to be sure no evil pedophiles kidnapped him).
  • I've watch my kids flick a booger somewhere and not bothered to find it and clean it up.
  • My children have had cereal for dinner.
  • We always have mac-n-cheese, chicken nuggets, and frozen pancakes at our house.
  • I've gone out without remembering to pack diapers, wipes, pacifiers, and blankets.
  • I've "not heard" my children so I could doze an extra 15 minutes in the morning.
  • I've let the TV babysit my kids so I could read another chapter in my book.
  • I've forgotten to give my kids a bath ... 5 days in a row.
  • I've "lost" toys and game pieces and books that I simply couldn't stand to play with/read one more time.
  • I've gone on vacation and not felt guilty about it.  I've even dreaded coming home (a little bit).
  • I've let my kids wear outfits that don't match, were too small, and were entirely disgusting.
  • I've let my kids hear music with not-so-great-lyrics.
  • I've fantasized about what it would be like to not have children.
  • I've let my kids leave the house with grimy faces, runny noses, and filthy hands.
  • I've wished my daughter wasn't potty trained so we didn't have to pull over ever 20 minutes to let her pee.
  • I've struggled with what to do when my children won't apologize.
  • I've yelled in anger.
  • I've spanked my children.
  • I've totally lost my cool and freaked out on my children.
  • I've let my kids go to bed without brushing their teeth because those teeth are gonna fall out anyway and it wasn't worth a fight.
  • I've pretended not to see something my kids did in order to avoid having to deal with it.
Yep.  I'm that mom. The one who doesn't have it all together. The one who sometimes can't manage to go shopping without someone crying.  The one who would rather let her children look ratty and dirty rather than fight with them about washing their faces.

What I think is my house might always be clean and you may never (ever) see me in public in my pajamas but do NOT let that fool you.  I'm that mom--the one who does not have it together.

Are you THAT mom too?  Prove it in the comments below!


Thanks, Shell for letting me Pour My Heart Out on your blog.
 

Monday, May 21, 2012

Music Monday: Churchill

Acoustic indie rock.

 Uh-huh.

I say those three little words and you know it's gonna be good. And it is.

It. is.

Churchill is a young band getting big attention because, well, they have a great sound. And while I love their sound, I also LOVE, LOVE, LOVE that they are from Denver. Whoop Whoop!

If you read their blog (which some of us nerdy mom bloggers tend to do) then you'll learn one thing about the band members: they like cheese. Just one more reason I'm digging this band!


 Change (I was so excited the first time I heard this on 93.3!)

 

Burn it Down (I want to hold Matt's hand on a rainy day and have this song magically start playing. If someone could make that happen, put me on your schedule).

 

 The Only One (because anything with an accordion has to be amazing)