"Those kids"

Before we had children, my husband and I would keenly observe other people's parenting. Other people's relationships even before we got married. I remember we did this compatibility booklet together while we were engaged-my husband's idea-and although I don't remember really anything about it I do remember it being a reminder about how awesome of a match we were.

IT isn't until you are married and then have kids that you really get what it means to parent a child. I have always loved kids. I love babysitting, I loved doing respite care for special kids. I wanted to have like 5 to 10 kids when we got married (we both did) and then after having our first we quickly realized that all those judgments come toppling on top of you as you begin to navigate the world of parenting. 

Don't get me wrong, when we were in line for redbox and a woman got her son Kick ass the movie because that is what he wanted to watch that night (he was maybe 10 or 11). I was guffawed-so I am not fully purged of parental judgments but in raising and caring, and loving your children I think you quickly have to learn to let passed judgments go and figure out how to thrive with the reality that faces you. 

That kid that you once saw screaming in the grocery store and all the people are giving the mom and child dirty looks-is now your kid

That kid who bites another child (my second kid not my first was prone to this) is now my kid-and no they don't even get spanked at home and yes, we do have rules at our home

And this past Christmas when we were at Target as a family picking out new water bottles of all things our kids were literally running around in a circle and my husband turns to me and says 

"WE are the parents of 'those' kids". 

I have heard there is some retribution like the wild child grown up has a kid who is crazy hyper and it is 'payback' but neither of us were super spirited kids.  So I can't say that I fully believe that

However, I do believe that God often in subtle ways prepares you for what lays ahead. In parenting, in marriage and in life.

I am grateful that when my husband and I were talking about our future selves, and how many children we wanted, and what kind of set up we wanted (me homemaker him breadwinner) that we both agreed on one very important thing:

That we would always have a home that is child friendly. That whatever we buy for our home-we have to be ok if it were to break, get scratched, dented etc. Not because there shouldn't be consequences or because it shouldn't be upsetting if something valuable was smashed but because there should be difference between helping curb or correct a behavior and being emotionally attached to "things" and then overreacting about whatever behavior happened" 

And I Thank the heavens we made that pact because we do have "those" kids. 

Recently, I had a box of crystal that we received as wedding presents get pushed over by an unhappy child. The crystal-although packed in bubble wrap and paper smashed and afterwards the first thing that popped into my mind was the pact we had made and I am grateful for that. 

I pray for those reminders often. 

I have come to the conclusion that we will never have the child who just hangs out and chills. That all of our children (if we are blessed another  later on-only God knows when) will be busy. I don't plan anymore about having a stretchmark free belly, toned abs, a sleeping child, that we will ever have a baby that is not colicky. And most importantly, I have learned to have compassion for other moms (okay maybe not as much for the mom who lets a child rent an R movie) but no one said I am perfect. I certainly know I am not.

So, if you are a mom of one of "those" children: The extra spirited the ones who maybe even just need extra medical care, or are prone to being sick- or any other extra-know that you are not alone. I have grown to appreciate having "those" kids. 

I give you a virtual high five and an Obama  air fist pump. And for me when days and weeks seem extra long, extra tiresome, when the whining or complaining seems extra irksome I remember what the whole point of this motherhood thing is. To help make my human beings good citizens of the world. Not perfect but just positive citizens to society.....

....and I usually figure out a way to add a treat for myself in that equation

No Gloating

"NO George NO!" Sam is telling the television right now as George is yet making another poor decision.

I want to tell Ted-the man with the Yellow hat when he says "Stay out of trouble George and be a good little monkey"

"Stop setting him up for failure sir. You are leaving a crazy monkey unattended. Its a good thing he isn't an aggressive Gorilla"

All this while I am sipping diet coke (yes I am trying to wean off real sugar-keep the bloating just not the calories...so basically empty poison) lounging in my rusting beach chair wearing paint stained sweats and watching the world in a kind of position old cranky people do when everyone is dumb and being crotchety is ignored because well...you are just old and expected to be that way.

I mean. I am only 29 but I'm working very hard on getting old (why I want to have more kids they add at least 5 extra years to your life each but it is drained from the youthful glowing beauty you realize you used to have before they emerged from newborn hood.

And yes I do think an extra 10 plus years of joy in my life is worth the youth being sucked from my once plump and unlined face. But I would like to learn not to be so surprised by it


Can I please tell you that lately being a grown up is not fun. I hate being called "mam" because yes, I look like a 'mam' and not a 'miss'. And I hated how when I went back to my family ward everyone looked so old. Because I think everyone shouldn't age including myself.

Its like being on a flat conveyer belt down a long hallway and every  couple hundreds of feet I glance over at the mirror and I'm like "aaa! who is that?!"

I feel like I should be 15 still and although I do sometimes act like it when we are into the nitty gritty of selling our home, disciplining, packing, cleaning, paying bills, saving, paying more bills from savings because of x y z I look over at my forever 25 year old looking husband and am like "being an adult is soooo boring". And I hope you get gray hair soon because I am tired of people thinking I am older. Huruumph. (He smiles politely and nods like you would to the 2 year old who is mad because her brother has parts she doesn't and why "can't she pee like a boy!?")

I dont' wish to literally be 15 again (heaven knows I am a lot happier with myself and I would like to add maybe a bit more mature and have a very wonderful life) but I dont' think I would recognize myself.

I went to dinner with a good friend from High School. And I was telling her about how I found my old California license. The one that has the picture of me when I was 15 getting my permit

Height: 5 4
Hair: blonde (a light blonde naturally)
eyes: Hazel
weight: 128 (which my sister told me when I filled out the form I was supposed to lie about my weight because everyone does-I didn't)

And a picture of a tan girl, no glasses, bright blue shirt, non smiling looking in the picture like a version of skipper from the waist up.

This year I am going to be 30. And that seems so old to me. 21 used to seem old to me and now 29 does and now I am going to be in my 30's!!!

In 10 years I will think myself being dramatic perhaps but life I think is about continually growing up. There is always more room for maturity. There is always more room to love more and have more compassion. That is a forever and ever thing but Its kind of hard to fathom that your body really does age and change despite you on the inside getting better.

Being in charge of awesome, small, exuberant, little persons is an amazing task (and huge undertaking) and although you grow into your role in what they need in different stages of their lives while always trying to maintain the dignity, tranquility and love of your home ( mostly while ignoring the cleaning of it)

Yes, the beloved Curious George is not my piece of pie (along with grammar....real words....meatloaf...literal cherry pie...) and that being an adult is totally at times exhausting but I am fully signed up for life. A good life even. And that involves a lot of nitty gritty. And I hope that one day I can judge The man with the Yellow hat while on a tandem bicycle wearing white emmaculate tennis gear with my 2-5 children behind me peddling wearing coordinating outfits with me. And instead of hissing out my judgment I'll simply say

"Oh tsk tsk. That poor man. Yellow is so not his color" in my best british accent of course. And low enough that none (or neither) of my children hear my petty judgement.