Mother’s Day and Momsie

Here is a post about Mother’s Day because:

  1. I am a mother.
  2. There is a Day that we get.

Before I go on, let me just say that I never really thought much of Mother’s Day until I finally had my own wee babies bust of my own body parts. I know. I’m sorry, Mom. Because once I had my own spawn? Oh my goodness, y’all. It was like Mother’s Day came up and smacked me upside the head then and said, “YOU ARE TIRED. THIS DAY IS GOING TO BE A CELEBRATION OF HOW REALLY REALLY TIRED YOU ARE. SO, TAKE ADVANTAGE, WOMAN.”

By the way, the committee who decided all the rules with Mother’s Day? I am thinking they’re not mothers. First of all, they decided it was going to be on a Sunday. Nope. Sunday mornings at our house? Full on nutball. Even more so than a school morning, because on Sundays we have to BE somewhere by 8 am because our church likes to worship our Lord and Savior when roosters are crowing, evidently. AND – not only do we HAVE to BE there while the sun is coming up, we also have to be FULL ON TALKY-TALKY AND SMILEY AND CHURCHY.

AND. We have to be dressed up. 

And act like this is all totally natural. 

Also, Mother’s Day is in MAY. Really? MAY? May is the month where the calendar just flops over on its side and starts groaning. May is the month of Let’s Do Everything.

May is a firing squad with a day-planner, ya’ll. 

Why can’t Mother’s Day be on a Saturday in… say, February? It’s cold. Rainy. I could take a nap that completes me.

Anyhow.

Here was my Mother’s Day:

  1. Blonde’s card. The snark is strong with that one.

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2. Red’s card. img_8057.jpg

Two things: I have not ridden a bike since Red fell off his bike and we ended up in the ER due to the horrible injury involving THE SEAT OF HIS BIKE JUST LET YOUR IMAGINATION FILL IN THE HOLES ON THAT ONE.

Also, totes correct on the sleeping thing.

3. I keep finding pictures like this on my phone:

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Note the slightly-crazed expression. That’s what I’m working with here, people.

 

4. Here is this total moment of hotness:IMG_8038.jpgNo… I am not his mother. That would be so weird. But he is somewhat responsible for the other two spawn and so, yea.

Plus he’s Hotter Mchotterson in those bike pants. You’re welcome for the eye candy, ladeeeeeez.

5. Also because Hotter Mchotteson is wonderful, he bought me a Ninja blender. This thing is awesome, y’all. I make my smoothies in it. In seconds.  I can make homemade whipped cream (something I never knew I needed in my life quite so much as now) in seconds. I blend soups! I make lattes! I blend up ice because I just CAN! IN SECONDS! It cleans my floors! It tells me I have good hair!

Sorry. Perhaps the Ninja cannot actually talk to me, but it seriously rocks my world.  And, because my last blender was THIS:

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Yes. It’s filthy. And it’s circa 1897.

Let’s all just have a moment of silence, shall we, for Really Old Grungy Blender Ok? Let’s grasp hands and say a prayer:

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6. And finally, there was THIS:IMG_8062.jpg

No, not the value pack of Lysol Wipes. Those are just always sitting around in our house because I have boys with little or no concept of aim.

Yes, this is a box.

It’s been sitting on my dining room table, along with All the Clutter of the World  for about three days. I tend to ignore my dining room table, as the clutter sloooooowly starts to mingle, maybe start dating, and then starts to procreate all over the place until I lose it and start throwing stuff away whilst muttering under my breath about the bad choices that my Clutter has made.

Anyhow, this was a present, for ME that I completely ignored because Clutter, AND I thought it was for my children. And, since they get all the presents all the time, I just kinda plopped it there, for a rainy day, when they deserve a present.

My sister finally texted me to inform me that the box was for ME and to OPEN it for Pete’s sake.

And so, I did and voila!

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My sister totally gets me.  A jadeite butter dish! Cute!! A cute little measuring tape thing. So cute!! A game that I can play with my children! In a cute little whale bag!! CUTE!

Annnnnnd: IMG_8068.png

As God is my witness, I thought it was drugs.

I know. Pretty much sums up my complete inability to process things correctly and also I am a horrible person.

It’s NOT drugs. It’s Zinnia seeds from her garden that are huge and gorgeous and MY GOSH WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME DRUGS? YOU ARE SICK. SICK, MOMSIE.

Ok, I didn’t really think it was drugs. But maybe, yes, just for a minute. Maybe.

7. I can’t end on the drugs thing. So, if I haven’t lost your readership at this point, here is also this:

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Red drew our cats on the wrapping paper for one of my gifts. Vader and Steve. Pretty accurate, actually. One is round. The other, pointy.

And poor Bob. Always off in the corner and misspelled.

And here is this:IMG_8066.jpg

Steve got a nap in. I walked by, took this picture, and told him, “You go, you big fat furry. You TAKE that nap. And take one for me, too, today, ok?”

He didn’t answer, just kept on sleeping. Shocking.

 

And that was my Mother’s Day.

Oh, and here’s what else happened:

  1. 27 hugs.
  2. fourteen kisses (more or less)
  3. A whole bunch of “I love you’s”
  4. My Red coming in to the bedroom, all tossled with sleep, saying, “Happy Mother’s Day, mommah. You are the best mother in the whole world.”
  5. My husband telling me he is proud of me. And that I’m hot.
  6. My sweet Blonde trying to cuddle with me on the couch, all arms and legs and growing boy.
  7. Hosmer swearing his undying love to me. Again.
  8. I didn’t drink because I’m a sober mom and a walking miracle all at the same time.
  9. God saying, “You are a mom, and you are Dana, and you are blessed, and you are MINE.

God bless you, mommahs. In truth? Every day is Mother’s Day. It’s a privilege.

Amen?

Amen.

 

 

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Throw Back Thursday Post, Because I’m Tired and My Old Writing is Still Funny. So, here.

Written last summer, August 2016.

Oh, those were some good times. 🙂

There is no “Oh no we’re not” in ‘Team’

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Linking up with my happy place: Five Minute Friday.

Today’s theme:

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Well… of course it is.

Ok, here’s the story:

I still haven’t posted my kids’ back to school pictures yet. This is kind of against nature and I am very sorry. Every mom knows that is it the LAW that those pictures get posted on the facebooks, pronto, and here I am, still just trying to make sure they’re fed and in clean underwear before they head out the door.

So, last night was Walking Night. It’s this Thing that the labrador-retriever husband came up with to help us Stay in Shape and Be a Family, all at the same time. We are a Team, after all. We go out and walk together. Or, rather, the boys shoot off on their bikes, like little nutball savages, while the husband and I, who mainly operate like ships in the night, walk and talk.

It’s better to be ships in the day, I guess.

Sometimes we even hold hands. Like ships in love.

Anyhow. LAST night I also wanted to Take it Up a Notch, by adding devotionals to the whole thing. I like to Take it Up a Notch whenever possible because my life is not chaotic or jam-packed enough and this whole Notch business seems to fulfill some basic need in me to be basically Perfect.

Ok, I’m just gonna stop with the capitals thing now. It’s Annoying, isn’t it?

So. I had my devotional all ready. And it went like this:

Both boys were instructed to take a tube of toothpaste and squeeze it out, which they did with some glee. The Blonde informed me right away, however, that this was a terrible waste of money. I just love him. He is so like his momma.

Then, I said, in my church lady voice:

“So, boys, now I want you to put the toothpaste back IN the tube.”

I then made the very overused, this whole toothpaste gag has been so done before thing, analogy that once your words are out there you can’t put them back. It’s not actually a BAD analogy by any means. I had figured that since we were starting up school again and that they might, well, hear stuff and say stuff because school is basically the Child Thunderdome where they learn interesting concepts like “fart train” and such, that this whole toothpaste thing would be memorable and important.

Oh, and it was. It was really, really memorable, y’all.

It started when Red, who was playing with his toothpaste like it was fingerpaint, decided to paint his brother’s face with the gooey stuff. I laughed. Brother laughed. It was all good clean minty fun, right? Learning moment. It was a learning moment! And then Blonde followed suit with some of his gooey stuff, and that’s when the screaming started.

You see, gentle reader, toothpaste is MINTY.

Minty + eyeballs = screaming.

Let me provide you with a short re-enactment:

Red: OH NOOO MY EYES MY EYESSSSS THE PAIN THE PAINNNN!!

Blonde: NOOOO MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MY EYEBALLS ARE ON FIRRREEEEEEEE!

Red: I AM DYING! AS WE SPEAK RIGHT HERE  JUST GONNA DIE. FROM DEVOTIONALS!

Blonde: MOTHER I WILL NEVER DO DEVOTIONALS AGAIN! BAD! BAD!

Both: AS GOD IS MY WITNESS, I WILL NEVER DO DEVOTIONALS AGAIN!

 

And that was my first try at family devotionals.

Toothpaste: 1

Devotionals: 0

 

We will try again. We will fight the good fight. We’re like the military. We never leave anyone behind.

Also, we flipping MINTY FRESH.

We are minty team, and as I have explained, numerous times to both boys: We are all stuck with each other, I’m sorry, but you can’t just go live with another family.

But next time devotionals will involve four pounds of M and M’s, soft music, and maybe the Care Bears.

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