It's Hard to be Two

I've been selling a lot of out old stuff online lately, and the Lord has been blessing us with the process.  It's like having a garage sale that never ends - except you don't have to mess with actually having a garage sale.  Nice!

The tricky part has been having the items that we are selling out in view of the kids as we are selling.  Items that have not been thought of in months - in some cases years - are suddenly considered their FAVORITE THING IN THE WORLD AND HOW DARE YOU EVEN THINK OF SELLING IT?!

Still, Mom usually prevails, and this past week we found ourselves selling Matthew's infant car seat.  Now, Matthew has been in a five-point harness for over a year.  He has not used this car seat since then.  He has barely seen it.  He has played with it a little off-and-on in the past few weeks because it's been out in the living room awaiting its new owner, but he certainly has not shown any particular attachment to it.

That is, until he saw me hand it over to someone else.

At which point, he threw a complete and total fit.

We are not talking about a temper tantrum.  We are not talking about I-am-not-getting-my-own-way screams.  We are talking about big, fat tears rolling down his tiny cheeks as he screamed "I WANT MY CAR SEAT!  I WANT MY CAR SEAT!"  This was not indignation, this was true sadness.  He was honestly distressed about the departure of "his" car seat.  I was shocked.  I mean, he hasn't even seen this thing in a year, not until recently.  Why the distress?

Two things:

1) Matthew is two.
2) Matthew is a third child. 

Third children have very little to call their own - especially third children who are the second or third of their gender.  When we had Joshua, EVERYTHING was new.  When we had Anna, she got all the girly stuff.  Matthew has very little to call his own.  This may not mean much at his age, but I think it means at least a little.

In addition, he's two years old.  It is very hard to be two.  You are beginning to understand there is a world around you, and you want to be a part of it - and yet everyone tells you where to go, what to wear, when to eat, what to eat, when to sleep, etc.  No wonder they throw so many tantrums!  Absolutely nothing is in their control, and they are starting to feel it. 

So poor Matthew - Mommy sold his car seat without even conferring with him.  How unfair.

However, there is a third factor at play, and that is the incredibly short attention span of a two-year boy.  By the time we got home, he had been distracted by something, and all was well in the world again.

And it should remain that way for a while.

At least until I sell his bouncer seat...

Absurd Mommy Moments

Any mother knows that this gig comes with an enormous number of moments that are so absurd, you never would have imagined yourself in such situations under "normal" circumstances.  Whatever "normal" is.  This morning, I found myself kissing Buzz Lightyear four or five times at Matthew's request in order to make Buzz's owies feel better.  This is absurd enough in itself.  However, it becomes MORE absurd when you know how it got started...because I myself suggested it.  Matthew was very concerned about Buzz in his state of injury, so to soothe him, I suggested I kiss Buzz to make it better. He liked the idea so much he brought Buzz to me about four more times throughout the morning for the same treatment.  I supposed I got myself into that one.

This event got me thinking - what other absurd mommy moments have I experienced lately?

Such as...

- Running out of time to eat breakfast in the morning so grabbing a Pop-Tart from the emergency stash in your glove box and a Capri Sun off the lunch supplies shelf to eat in the van on the way to school.

- Standing in the store trying desperately to figure out how to make a 10-unit case of juice boxes work for an 11-student preschool class, realizing you are never going to get there, and winding up buying 20 boxes in order to provide for all 11 students.

- Doing all that shopping at 11:30 at night because that's when you realized you had forgotten your child has preschool snacks in the morning.

- Having to explain to your lively 6-year old that, despite how he feels, the doctor says he has bronchitis and his oxygen levels are low, so he needs to STOP RUNNING IN THE HOUSE AND SIT AND WATCH A MOVIE.

- Simultaneously talking up the yucky medicine to your 6-year old has to take while talking it down to your 4-year old who is feeling left out because she doesn't get any medicine to take.

- Making rules for when and how your daughter is allowed to sing the song she created that involves her swinging her little tushie and belting out "itsy-bitsy itsy-bitsy BOTTOM!"

- Climbing into your bed at night, stretching your arm out under your pillow, and coming up with a handful of Polly Pockets.

- Pulling out the checkbook at the grocery store and watching two Candy Land cards fall out.  (And why are you using a checkbook instead of a debit card?  Because the children have been in your purse and you no longer know where the debit card IS, of course.)

- Rescuing Polly Pockets from a glass of milk your two-year-old saw fit to drown them in.

- Taking a four-hour drive with your husband for the sole purpose of having time to talk to him alone and uninterrupted...mostly.

- Planning to get up at 6:00 am to go grocery shopping without the kids...only to have your 2-year-old wake up at 5:30, so you have to take him with you.

It is never, ever boring around here.

We Laugh So We Don't Cry

Why do I blog?  Well...

http://www.arcamax.com/thefunnies/babyblues/

Greetings from the Planet Ya-Ba

This morning, all three kids were playing together in their room.  The house was so nice and quiet, and I was trying to seize the moment and get some good Bible time in.

Alas, it didn't last, and out the door of the room they came, terrorizing the living room, begging for snacks (breakfast had ended about 15 minutes before, so, of course, they were starving) and trying to climb into my lap.

Hoping to get my few moments of solitude with God back, I asked "Guys, what happened?  You were playing so nicely in your room."

Joshua, without skipping a beat, answered "Our spaceship got turned into a toy spaceship."

"Oh yeah?  Who did that?" I inquired.

"The magic fairies."

"I see.  What was the spaceship?"

"It's name is the Freeze Family Spaceship."

"Ok, but was it Anna's bed?"  (That bed is on its third generation.  It has been spaceships, pirate ships, trains, planes, and everything else you can imagine.)

"No," he answered,  "It was our WHOLE ROOM!"

"Why don't you go back to your room and fly to Mars?"

"Because Mars doesn't LIKE US!"

"Ok...how about Jupiter?"

"JUPITER DOESN'T LIKE US EITHER!"

At this point Anna piped up and offered "Jupiter doesn't like us, but I know a planet that does...the planet YA-BA!"

Seeing my opportunity, I said "All right then, head to the planet Ya-Ba."

Anna looked at me with wide eyes.  "YOU know the planet YA-BA?!", she asked incredulously. 

"Yes, and they would love to see you." I answered.

So they all went frolicking back to their room.  As I write this, I can hear Joshua yelling "MATTHEW!  STOP IT!"  This is an attempt to get me to come in there and reprimand Matthew without getting in trouble for tattling.  However, I think I will leave it to the Ya-Banians to work it out. 

Giveaway!

Howdy readers!  I keep hearing that people read this blog...and yet no one ever comments.  Come on!  Comments make a blogger's day!

So, I am going to test the waters with my first giveaway.  Here's what's up.  I have done 10 "Things Overheard at My House" entries.  I think it is time for a top ten list.  Below are links to all ten entries.  Comment with your top three quotes overheard at my house.  At the end of two weeks, I will do a random drawing of all the commentors, and the winner will win a lovely Mary Kay prize package full of whatever goodies I find on my shelves.  I am not sure what I will find, but I guarantee it will at least involve a pedicure set.  Awww yeah.

(Yes, I sell Mary Kay.  I'm just not very good at it.)

So, prove to me that you are reading this, and comment away!

Things Overheard at my House #1
Things Overheard at my House #2
Things Overheard at my House #3
Things Overheard at my House #4
Things Overheard at my House #5
Things Overheard at my House #6
Things Overheard at my House #7
Things Overheard at my House #8
Things Overheard at my House #9
Things Overheard at my House #10

Just Another Friday Morning at My House

Well!  I think we've had enough of the heavy topics now, don't you think?  Moving on...

This morning was another time of hilarity in my house.  It started off with the children jumping around our bed at around 5:45 a.m.  This has become their routine.  Throughout the night, all three children will eventually migrate to our bed, and then around 5:45, one of them - usually Matthew - wakes up and starts banging around.  Pretty soon Joshua is up, and they jabber away at each other while experimenting with how often they can pull my hair until I growl at them.  At some point, all this nonsense wakes up Anna, who yells at them for waking her up.  My husband and I play the "maybe if I act like I am so zonked I can't hear them my spouse will take them out of here" game till around 6:15 or so, at which point one of us caves and ushers them all the to the living room, leaving the other one with a satisfactory extra 5-10 minutes of blissful, quiet snooze time. 

This morning, I lost the game.  It's ok - I've won the past two mornings.  It was my turn.

Breakfast was fairly uneventful, although Anna did have a traumatizing moment when she realized she had spilled milk on her giraffe.  Mommy and a dishrag saved the day.

No, the real fun can about ten minutes later when we were all getting dressed.  I was trying to get clothes on in my room when I heard Anna holler "MOM!  I CAN'T REACH MY SHIRT!"

Considering I'd left her shirt folded on the couch for her, I thought this statement was a tad peculiar, so I headed out to the living room and found Anna, stripped to her underwear, dangling over the back of the couch trying to reach her shirt.

"Anna, what's wrong?"
"I can't reach my shirt behind the couch."
"Why is your shirt behind the couch, Anna?"
"Well, I accidentally threw it."

Accidentally?  How do you accidentally throw something?  Accidentally drop it, sure, but throw it?  Hmmm.

Anyway, I retrieved the shirt and we went on with the morning.  This particular morning, Joshua had to dress in jeans and a cowboy hat for a music program at school.  Matthew immediately confiscated the hat and proceeded to run around the house yelling "YEE-HAW!  I'M BUZZ LIGHTYEAR!"

Right movie.  Wrong character. 

We were just almost ready to go when Joshua let out a scream.  Not a I'm-not-getting-what-I-want scream, a I-am-really-hurt-get-to-me-quick scream.  Sean and I rushed over to him to discover his thumb turning purple.  Apparently, Anna had pulled out a rather large Rocko (yes, Rocko is still alive and well) and had been playing with it when she dropped it to the ground...or, rather, on Joshua's thumb.  She started crying as well because she'd hurt Joshua and didn't mean to.  Sean and I each had our arms wrapped around a child, comforting and soothing, when here comes Buzz Lightyear, still wearing the hat.  Mr. "Me Too!" decided that if there was hugging and attention going around, then by golly, he ought to be a part of things, so he wriggled his tiny but sturdy frame in between Joshua and me and began demanding a hug.  I hugged him quick and sent him to his father while I assessed the thumb.  It wasn't bad, but it did need ice, so I got Joshua all set up with that and kissed his thumb to make it better in the process.  Matthew saw this and ran over to insist I kiss his thumb as well.  Whatever. 

After all thumbs were iced and kissed and all tears wiped away, we headed out the door for the day.

About 10 minutes late. 

But everyone got out the door, everyone got where they needed to be, and no one wound up in the ER.  Or shirtless.  And Matthew gave the hat back to Joshua before heading into daycare.

Some mornings, that's really all you can ask for. 

We Need Each Other

This blog is usually about my crazy experiences as a mother of three.  I avoid pop culture topics and controversy for the sake of telling funny - and sometimes moving - stories.  However, there is an issue among American motherhood today about which I am completely passionate, and it has cropped up once again.  So I am going to take a moment to get up on my soap box and say something, because I am sick and tired of the media using me and other mothers as pawns in their little financial game.

TIME magazine recently stirred up a hornet's nest with their most recent cover:

This picture and headline have created an online storm of shouting, mostly from proponents of breastfeeding that are ready with swords drawn to defend their choice of providing nourishment for their child - whether anyone is actually fighting them or not.

Let me be clear on something.  I am in favor of breastfeeding.  I breastfed all three of my children.  I did it in public, and I did it as long and as much as it worked for my child and me, which was different all three times.  I have no problem with a breastfeeding mother gracing the cover of a nationwide magazine.

That's not what offends me.

What offends me is this culture the media has created that aims to set mother against mother in the name of selling more magazines.  I am offended by magazines, blogs, talk shows, newspapers, and all other outlets of communication creating controversy among women just because fighting and backbiting sells better than solidarity and togetherness.  The perpetuation of the so-called Mommy Wars is not a phenomenon of everyday motherhood.  It is a plot of editors to create a storm that they can then "examine" with "experts" to destroy relationships and make mothers feel poor about themselves.

Motherhood is hard.  I have done hard things in my life, and I am here to tell you - motherhood is hard.  It is often unforgiving, physically exhausting, and emotionally draining.  On any given day, you can pour your heart and soul into the adventure only to have it broken and thrown back in your face.  Any mother who has found herself walking into walls from fatigue, discovered that the reason she can't get the poop smell out of her nose is because it's under her fingernails, or held a child's hand while they are strapped to a hospital bed with tubes coming out of their body knows that this journey is not an easy one.  Motherhood is not for wimps.  To survive it - to thrive in it - we need each other.  We need the Fellowship of Mothers.  I need to be able to post on Facebook how tired I am and immediately have six moms say "yeah, me too."  I need to have moms I call to both cry and laugh with.  I need a posse of women to contact when my child comes down with an unidentifiable rash or comes home with bruises - emotional or physical - from the mean kid at school.  I need other moms, and other moms need me.

What we don't need is to be against one another.  We do not need to fight over breastfeeding, bottle feeding, staying at home, going to work, when to potty train, how to vaccinate, sugar vs. no sugar, how to discipline, and so forth.  We do not need to stand against one another on those issues that we each agonize over and about which we ultimately have to make our own decisions.  And the truth is, in day-to-day life, I don't have these fights.  Most of the time, we discuss, we agree to disagree, and then we go for coffee.  The only place the Mommy Wars is really being fought is in the media, and the writers and editors know how to push just the right buttons to fire people up and tear them apart.  We don't need that.

We also do not need to be told we are not mom enough.  No, I have not read this article.  I don't plan to.  You know why?  Because a  few years back, I resolved to never again read an article or watch a news clip that made me feel bad about being the mother I am.  I used to read everything, and I found myself crying myself to sleep because I could never measure up to those women in the magazines.  It took till the third child to realize how much time and energy I was wasting on that nonsense.  I have several friends who became mothers after me, and some of them asked me what advice I had for them.  My biggest piece of advice is this: there are exactly four people who know what is best for your baby...you, your husband, your baby, and Jesus.  After that, people may give advice, but they are also welcome to shut it.  What works for one baby does not necessarily work for every baby.  You've got to make the best decision for your family on so many issues, a million decisions every day.  You are not going to make the right decisions every time.  But you are the expert on YOUR child.  No one else, I don't care how many credentials they have.  And again, you do not need the editors of TIME magazine or any other news source challenging your ability as a mother.  Don't waste your time and energy on that crap. 

So women  - hear me out.  Stop being used.  Stop allowing the writers and the editors and the captains of media out there to dictate your relationships.  Be strong enough in your opinions that you don't have to shout back so loud when you feel you are being threatened.  Don't fall into their trap.  Fight for the Fellowship of Mothers, and band together the way we need to.  You are doing fine, you are a great mom, and you have great women around you on whom to lean and with whom to cry.  Put down your swords and go get coffee.

And then watch this video from Johnson and Johnson, because it's beautiful: