Celebrating the Yucky Things in Life

If you'd have asked me twenty years ago, what I would be excited about in my future, celebrating poop would not have been on that list... not even at the bottom.  But, here I am, at age forty-two, celebrating my two year old son's first and second successful attempts at going potty.  After lots of "high-fives" and a hug, I pondered on the direction that my life has taken.

I had many delusions of grandeur, but celebrating poo was not even a consideration.  But now, with two kids in diapers, getting one of them to poop in the potty is just one step closer to finding my sanity, which packed up and left a while ago.  I don't know when my sanity actually left, I was probably changing diapers and didn't notice (because when one needs a change, the other one has to have one too.)

I'm hoping that the celebrations will get considerably more interesting and desirable than poop, as my children get older.

But I'm not expecting anything too amazing anytime soon.  One thing that having children has taught me is patience (or the fact that I have none.)  But that's another story.

Being Mommy...

Well, I was at a loss today of what to post... that is, until I came across this pic on Facebook from someecards.com.  I think I want to get it on a mug!

OMGoodness, I feel completely redeemed now!  I'm not the only one who feels this way!  I'm sooo tired of ALWAYS having to share with Little Man... just for ONCE, I'd like to be able to eat a candy bar or bowl of ice cream (or anything, for that matter) without sharing!  LOL  I'll usually gobble my candy bar down when hubby's changing Little Man's diaper (our closets are too full o'crap for me to hide in!)

Had some pumpkin seeds today and refused to share (didn't think a two year old should eat those yet, come to think of it, I probably shouldn't have either, because of all the salt) and you'd think the world was ending!  I think that was the most traumatic experience of his little life, to date!  I mean, the face on that little guy!  I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry with him, it was so pathetic.  I actually tried to get a picture of his little face with the red eyes and the tears, but none of them did him or his tantrum justice.

So, does this make me a bad mother?  No, but it sure feels like it!  It's so hard to not spoil such an adorable child, and that's probably why his tantrum was so bad... because he's terribly spoiled.  Here's a pic of him at his Big Bubby's birthday party, all dirty, playing outside... he's ALL boy!

May 2012

And here's another one... again, dirty, after playing outside in the mud.  It had just rained and daddy took him out into the yard to explore.

Who could resist that face?!  Not me... not daddy... not big bubby... which is why he's spoiled!

Speaking of "spoiled"... as I attached the pics above, I hear Little Man at the bedroom door, trying to get out.  It's not closed all the way, just opened a crack, so I'm wondering why he's not just coming on out, like he does on so many occasions.  Well, he had his Blanky and his "Piboh" (pillow) and with both in his little hands, he couldn't maneuver his way out of the bedroom.  He just melts my heart.  Never thought I could love someone as much as I love my son!

Let us not put off what is most important...

Well, today has almost completely gotten away from me and I hadn't set anything up for today's post.  But as I was looking for something to blog about, I came across a really good quote that I dare say we all need reminding of once in a while.  Especially when our days get so busy like today did for me.  It's a quote from the president of our church, but it's a standard across the board whether you go to our church, or any church at all.

“Give your child a compliment and a hug; say, ‘I love you’ more; always express your thanks. Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved. Friends move away, children grow up, loved ones pass on. It’s so easy to take others for granted … Let us relish life as we live it, find joy in the journey and share our love with friends and family. One day, each of us will run out of tomorrows. Let us not put off what is most important.” - President Thomas S. Monson

Too Much & Not Enough!

I think I've mentioned this before, but I get totally distracted each and every moment of the day!  I start out with good intentions, but I have so much that I want to do... so much that I need to do... and as I try to work on any of it, I find myself distracted to the point of getting overwhelmed and lost in a sea of "To Do's" with no time left to do them in. 

I've come to the conclusion that you can have too many good ideas.  You can have a few, but there's a thin line that I must have crossed years ago because it's not even within eye-sight or ear-shot anymore.

You see, I surf the web... not on purpose (not usually, anyway) but I start out checking emails and wanting to work on my blog.  The emails get me distracted with all the links that I'm interested in and want, so badly, to check out.  Then, once I've pried myself off the email (and all the new tabs that I opened to visit - usually around a dozen or so at this point and it just grows from there) I then go to my blogging side of life.  I use two different web browsers too (just thout I'd mention that part)  in order to keep things "organized" (pffttt, yeah riiiight!)

Once on my blog, I surf around other blogs in order to Spread the Love of Comments to my fellow bloggers.  This usually takes me to many many many more websites and adds many many many tabs to my browser window.  This tends to slow down my system and sometimes my browsers end up crapping out on me.  This holds up the works.

All of this, is of course, in between a crying 7 month old who is in the clingy stage; feeding, changing diapers, playing, reading to, etc.  I love being a mom, but it's another item (or many items) on my list of things that keep me from other tasks.  And of course, there's the whole "sleep while he sleeps" idea that I need to adhere to, but don't usually do.  But lately he hasn't been taking his regular naps, or at least, not for as long, as he had been.  So, he gets top priority, of course!  I just can't believe how fast he's growing and I certainly don't want to miss any of it if I can help it. 

Then there's laundry, dishes, cleaning, sweeping, vacuuming, etc...... I try to squeeze some of these in during the morning hours as well. 

*Sigh*

Well, that's my story for today of Too Much & Not Enough!  As you can see, my main issues are time management and organization.  It's a Work in Progress, with a very dim light at the end of a very long tunnel.  But then again:

Life is a journey, not a destination.


My little Bugaboo sporting his first two teeth!

Now, who could resist this face? 

Scarred

I look at myself, at the scars left from years and years ago.  Some are faded, others very vibrant.  My hands have some that are easy to see, one when I used a knife and cut toward my hand even though I knew better.  I had to learn the hard way. 

Other scars have faded to nothing.  I had three holes put into my left hand when dad and I had played Monkey in the Middle with our dog.  She was the Monkey in the Middle as we tossed a ball back and forth.  Then the ball and her mouth came down into my hand at the same time.  Three holes, almost all the way through.  I was two years old.  Our dog didn’t mean it, it was an accident, and honestly, it didn’t even hurt, strangely enough.  My parents were horrified, of course.  That was the end of our game.

I have scars on my knees from climbing trees.  Oh, how I used to climb as high as the roof and jump down where my parents couldn’t see me.  I have bad feet now, I’m wondering if that’s one of the reasons why. 

Then there are the emotional scars.  My mom and dad deaths.  Dad died first.  My divorce to my first husband.  Numerous breakups, too many to count.  Pets dying or having to get rid of them for one reason or another.  Depression at different times in my life. 

Of course, there are many more scars of different types, too numerous to list. Now I look at my baby, (oh, and let’s not forget those scars!) innocent, loving, funny, adorable, and I think of how much his daddy and I were daredevils when we were kids and all the scars both of us have, both physical and emotional, and I get scared… no, terrified!  He’s going to get hurt, he’s going to get scars, I can’t imagine the terror my parents felt when my hand went into our dog’s mouth.  But I’m sure I’ll probably find out one way or another. 

I wish I could call my parents and apologize to them for putting them through such pain, seeing me go through what I went through.  But my mom’s philosophy was that I had to learn from my own mistakes.  No matter what she could possibly say, I had to experience the pain on my own, or otherwise I wouldn’t actually learn anything.  She never interfered.  She sat and watched, and was always there to pick up the pieces when I needed her, but she let me fly from the nest on her own.  How strong she was to do that.  I know she worried beyond belief.  She was overprotective of me when I was little, in some ways.  But in others, she allowed me to experience life and pain, but also happiness and love.

Mom always said, what doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.  Great, what doesn’t kill you?!  Are you kidding me?!  What about the broken bones, teeth knocked out, God forbid getting maimed,  mental issues, therapy, etc….. Aaarrrggghhh!!  I’m not going to survive this motherhood thing.  I’m going to curl into a little ball until it’s over.  OMG, that’s going to be a long time!  Maybe I’ll just put my baby into a protective bubble and not ever let him get hurt…. Of course, then he’ll never experience love and kindness and all the good things in life either.  Hmmm… not such a good idea, either.  How did my mother do it?!  Amazingly she and I both survived.  How, I don’t know.  But it’s my turn to find out. 

Life is a journey, not a destination. And I plan to have a great time with my family on this journey.  Oh, we’ll have our hard times, our bad times, and we’ll all get scarred.  But we’ll have good times as well and we’ll all be better people in the long run. 

Our scars tell stories of our lives.  Display them proudly.