"Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair
and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket."
Author: Alan Beck


Thursday, September 30, 2010

While I'm Comparing....

Since I'm so obsessed with comparing lately, I may as well throw my kids into the mix. 

No harm intended, regardless of how they stack up.  I wouldn't trade them for anything (most days), I just need some answers regarding their recent behavior.

Welcome to...

"Have you ever?"

As in...Have you ever been missing a child (only for a few seconds, of course) and followed a trail of chocolate chip muffin that led you through the kitchen, into the playroom, around the piano, and eventually, to the back door?  When you opened the back door, did you find the muffin man quenching his thirst in the dog bowl?


I promise I give my kids drinks ALL DAY LONG.  In fact, they ask for them every 19 minutes.  Seriously, what does a dog bowl provide, that a regular cup cannot? 

All I can think of is germs, germs, germs!

Do your kids (or did your kids) ever drink out of a dog bowl?  Enlighten me, I'm waiting.

(*Tomorrows have you ever post will include the infamous bathroom towel rack.)

Friday, September 24, 2010

Comparing is not the cure...

I've somehow settled into the bad habit of comparing things lately.  What kind of things?  Everything.

Including, but not limited to the following: My house, my children (and the behavior they exude), my car, my lip gloss, my hair, my boys' hair, my energy level, the meals I prepare, the lunches I pack, the notes that go into the lunches I pack, the decor in my home, the way my home appears (and smells) to others, my wardrobe, the wardrobe of my boys, my dogs, my parrot, my bearded dragon, etc., etc., etc.

It's not just about BIGGER,
                       BETTER,
                     FASTER,

but more about me wondering if I can even compare to other mom's, families, etc.  Here's what set me off-

Last week, Jack was 'snack helper' at school.  We've known about this date for over a month now.  What did I do?  I did exactly what I thought every normal mom would, and sent my husband to the store at 10:00 PM with strict orders to buy 15 Dole Fruit Cups.

You know, so I could be deemed as the mom who sends the healthiest snack of the month.  (Take THAT all you moms who send Fruit By The Foot and Twinkies!) 

The next morning, Jack proudly gathered his 15 fruit cups, 15 napkins, and 15 plastic spoons.  I proudly drove him to school thinking about what a great snack choice I had made.  Was I the only mom who sent real fruit in for snack time?  Bet I was!  And I even supplied the napkins and plastic spoons....DOUBLE WHAMMY!!

Jack's teacher seemed happy about my choice, but didn't get overly excited.  Oh well.  I kissed him goodbye, and drove home.

Once home, I began my daily routine (OK, you got me.  There's no routine at all.  I just do my best to get done what needs to be done.  In no particular order or fashion.)  After starting a load of laundry, wiping up random 'sticky' from the kitchen floor for the 37th time, losing a wrestling match to a 2 year-old (and being told I'm 'not as good as Daddy), I sat down at the computer for my daily routine (this part is routine) of blog lurking.

BIG mistake.

I came across a blog I had never read before.  A blog of a HS classmate of mine.  A delightful blog.  A witty blog. A blog that slapped me in the face with a solid dose of 'you're not as cool as you think you are.'

It all came down to a frightfully disturbing picture located on the homepage of this blog.  A picture of....crayons.

They looked like this:

(**Please note: this is not the actual picture from the haunting blog.  Her picture was MUCH cuter than these, but seeing as I haven't talked with her since HS, I'm not sure if she'd even know who I was, and not sure she would ever associate with a mom who sent her son to school with fruit cups.)

Not scary, you say?  What if I told you that they were pretzel rods dipped in candy coating on each of the ends, and then wrapped with a creative Crayola-like wrapper?  What if I told you that this mom also had a child who was snack helper that week, and THIS is what she brought to school? 

Now do I have your attention?

As I sat in the chair, my heart sank.  All I could picture, was my sweet little Jack, walking into his classroom with a sack full of fruit cups.  Boring, lousy, fruit cups.  His friends probably hate him.  His teacher probably hates me.  And now I know that the snickering I heard as I pranced him into school that morning was directed at me...and my lack of creativity.

This is where the 'comparing' started, and it's been a nightmare ever since. 

So....if you're a mom who always has lip gloss on, whose children are always in perfect order and control while in public, whose dogs don't bark, who packs organic lunches everyday, who's hair is only in a ponytail once every 3 weeks, who's car is always washed, who has the energy of a gerbil (without meds), who has an amazing wardrobe with a matching necklace for every shirt, who's boys look like they just finished shooting a Gap commercial, who's lawn is always mowed and who's house always smells like pumpkin pie, THIS POST IS FOR YOU.

You got me.  You got me good.  I could never compare.

(How much do you want for the 'crayon' recipe)



Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Try to imagine....

It's no wonder I haven't blogged in forever.  Life for me is feeling quite messy right now.  Far from the neat and tidy that I love.  Just take a look at my kitchen floor.  It's strewn with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sippy cups, crumpled up rugs, and monster teeth

I am desperate to write, as it always makes me feel so much better.  However, inside my brain is a tornado of thoughts, topics, issues & desires, which I haven't been able to pick from.  Do I write about finding my son stuffed inside a mailbox earlier this week, or the mom at preschool who finds it necessary to wear stilettos every fricken day? 

So there you have it.  Once again, my brain cloud is clogged.  Since my children are playing the part, we're headed to the zoo for the day.  Seems we all need to get out.

I'm crossing my fingers that this teensy bit of writing will be the mental draino that I so desperately need.

Please don't give up on me.  I promise I'll be right back....