The moments we live for.

I was watching a drama on TV tonight about a missing kid. Usually I refuse to watch any type of show pertaining to a missing kid. Shows like that just mess me up for a week. But it was just one of the episodes in this drama series I regularly watch. It wasn’t too intense, like the movie Ransom, that I will NEVER watch again. But in the end the son was reunited with his parents and as I watched the scene my Mother’s heart was moved. The music was playing, “of course”, and the police officer wrapped the child in a blanket and carried him to the parents. As I watched the parents run for their son, and the police officer place him in their arms and the mom kissed his forehead, I just thought “Yup, that is all that matters.” Parenting is an amazing experience, but it also can be brutal at times, raising human beings with minds of their own. But no matter what trials you may go through, they only thing that matters is that each of my children is in my arms and I kiss their forehead. As I watched that scene, I could feel what it feels like to kiss each of my kids on the forehead, or hold each of them in my arms, and I just thank God that I get to do just that. So as these holidays approach, and things get busy, whether it be last minute Christmas shopping or 4 kids home on break tearing up the house, remember to take your kids in your arms and kiss their foreheads. Those are the moments we live for.

Just another day in paradise!

The following is a story from last week that I just didn’t have time to write until this week…..

The day was too good to be true. Travis was over and he and Bo played and played and played. Not one squabble between the two. Jackie had packed a lunch for Travis, which included a lunch for Bo, so I didn’t even need to make lunch for them. Seriously, how much easier can it get. Then the phone rang. It was the elementary school. Apparently I needed to bring Timmy some new pants. I was confused, and the secretary seemed to be confused also as to why my 2nd grader needed new pants. So they put him on the phone and these were Timmy’s words. “Um mom, I went to the bathroom, and while I was standing there peeing I was looking up at the walls and the ceiling just singing some songs, and when I looked down I saw that my pants were wet.” So basically he just missed. I almost just picked all the kids up then seeing it was 1:15 and I had to pick everyone up at 1:40 for a doctors appointment. Wait! No I DON’T! I have to pick them up at 2:40! Oh I better let the teachers know the actual time when I take Timmy his pants.

I left Bo and Travis with my mom just so this blog didn’t double in length with stories of me chasing Bo through the school, while I try to help Timmy get changed. Once Timmy was all set I headed down to inform Timmy’s teacher that I emailed her the wrong time. Ya see, she emailed me earlier asking what time I was picking Timmy up because she was “confused” by my note. I just assumed it was my handwriting, so I emailed her back the incorrect time of 1:40. Nope, apparently I had written that I would need to pick Timmy up at 3:40, mind you school ends at 2:55. Yup, just another day the teachers get to know who I REALLY am. “That Mom”(any of my regular readers know what those quotations mean) lol

After we all were sure what time I was picking the kids up I went to my moms to get Travis and Bo and hoped to vacuum my house before I had to go back to the school at 2:40. However, just as I was about to load the kids in the van I saw my rear tire was totally flat. Ugh!!!!! Really? I don’t do COLD and I don’t do FLAT TIRES! And I certainly didn’t want to do them both at the same time. Usually I call my road side service, ya know, 1-800-MY MAN! But work is so busy right now he couldn’t come to my rescue. So there I was, my hands freezing while I filled my tire with air.

I then rushed the kids to the car, picked up other kids from school, and went to trade vehicles with Michael so I could make it to holt for the doctor appointment. When I carried Bo to the truck I realized he didn’t have a coat and to top it off he was barefoot. He had gone to the van so fast I didn’t even notice. By the time I made it to holt it was raining balls of ice and I walked through the door with a barefoot Bo. Yeah, I didn’t look like the most responsible parent that day. But no call from social services yet, so I must still be meeting the minimum requirement as a parent. lol

Jeans shopping. I am not sure what is worse, jeans shopping or changing a diaper of a 1 year old with diarrhea, on the side of the road, while it is snowing. Hmmmm. It’s a toss up. Guys just don’t have any idea how hard it is for us to jeans shop. They just go in there with their latitude and longitude numbers and swipe a card. Not us girls. We go to the dressing room with 2 different sizes cause some brands run bigger than others. And then you have the whole ”shape” thing to consider. Some look good on your thighs but sag in the butt. Some give you that booty you always wanted yet the thighs are so tight you might need and amputation by the end of the day! The ones that look great on the butt and thighs are too long or too short. And then we have low rise, mid rise and high rise. Personally I don’t know why low rise so popular. Seriously, growing up we always felt sorry for the kids whose butt crack showed in class, and now seeing a “moon” is part of everyday life. I mean seriously, have we all been so impressed with the long time phrase “plumbers butt” that we now strive to maintain such a reputation. I do wear them myself. Trying to defy my age, hoping to look trendy. However, personally I wish the “mom” jeans would be the trendy style. I actually have a pair that I only wear with sweatshirts so no one will know. But they are great. No one gets a surprise look at my bright white moon, and they give me a place to tuck the excess miss placed skin from carrying 4 babies for 9 months each. Well, actually 8 months, ‘cause just like I cook every meal on high, I cooked my babies on high also. Still they were 8 and 9 pounds each and I couldn’t get enough ice cream with anyone of them. So I like to tuck whatever stretched out shin I have down into my mom jeans, it’s just more comfortable. But even the high wasted pants give me that “plumberie” look. So I guess high wasted really just means “ a little higher than the low rise. Well, there is my soap box, can ya tell what I did today.