Swag Bucks

Friday, December 19, 2014

I resolve to

eat less, exercise more.
always kiss Trevor 'fore he goes out the door.

cook more, complain less.
keep important things, donate the rest.

watch my language, say my prayers.
always dress the kids in layers.

save money, avoid take-out.
give more hugs, try not to shout.

worry less, make time to play.
count my blessings every day.

Monday, December 15, 2014

Some days

Some days are diamonds and some days are the crud on the bottom of your shoe that you can't quite identify and aren't quite sure you would want to anyway.

Some days I feel fulfilled and kind of like super-mom when I get the house cleaned AND feed the kids AND play with the kids AND have a bit of time leftover for a cup of coffee and some "me" time in the afternoon.  And then some days, well .. ... those things don't happen and I experience a bit of self-loathing for not accomplishing anything, along with a bit of self-pity that I'm stuck at home day after day after day with the same two small people who run my universe. 

Some days I love being "Mama/Mom/Mommy/Maaaaaaaa" and wouldn't trade it for the world.  And some days I try to remember who I was before I became a mother.  It's there, the faint lingering memory of pre-motherhood, and it is so close I can taste it, smell it, feel it, but it's gone forever and that fact is perhaps what makes it so appealing at times.

EVERY day, I love my children.  I love the way it feels to be the most important person in a small person's world.  I love the smell of baby shampoo.  I love the soft coziness of fleece sleepers.  I love that I can still fix a boo-boo with a kiss and a hug. 

So while pre-motherhood might some days seem appealing (because I can't have it and you know me, I've always wanted what I can't have), motherhood is even better.  Even on the bottom-of-the-shoe-crud days.

I'm going to go kiss my babies now.

Friday, December 12, 2014

A Holiday Party: Afterthoughts

We survived our first physics department holiday gathering with Trevor's new colleagues ..  I feel like that makes us official.  It was a pleasant enough evening, although we did have some hiccups. 

Upon arrival, I asked Maxwell to please let me know if he needed to use the potty.  Minutes later I heard Trevor make the same request.  And just a few minutes later, after he had run off to join the other hyenas- I mean children, the hostess was telling me that my son had had an accident.  Thank goodness for hardwood floors and understanding people who save their children's outgrown clothing and pull-ups.  He spent the rest of the evening in some very fancy looking girls' jeans rolled up several times, a Spiderman t-shirt a couple sizes too big, and a pull-up that quite possibly was a decade old.  Thankfully he is still young enough to not realize that what happened was something an older kid might be mortified over; instead after putting on his new outfit he just wanted to go show it off for everyone.  I love that kid. 

I was embarrassingly under-dressed.  I should have known better than to trust my husband who told me it was a "come-as-you-are party, I think."  If "I think" is in the sentence, then it's not based on anything except his own wild guess.   Next year I will be wearing my finest holiday sweater and fancy shoes.  The kids will be dressed as matching elves.

I love how politically correct people are when meeting me, a professor's wife with a baby on her hip.  "So what do you .. or .. do you .. um .. work outside the home?"  One woman assured me that I would be more than ready to go back to work when the kids were both in school.  "You won't know what to do with yourself!"  Hmm, I guess we'll see.  I sort of like the idea of being available for my children 24/7 .. just in case.  You know?  They get sick, and Trevor and I don't have to toss a coin to decide who has to miss work (not that a coin would be tossed .. but you know what I mean).  One of the kid's classes needs 500 cupcakes for a bake sale-- who has time for that?  The stay-at-home-mom whose kids are all in school, that's who.  I'd like to be that mom, is that such a bad goal?  Should I be setting my sights higher?  I don't think so.  But who knows how I'll feel in 3 years?  And who knows if our budget can continue to work on one income?  That's the real question.

So I certainly didn't meet any potential "mommy friends," but everyone was friendly and I didn't feel completely like a fish out of water.  I really don't like these social things, but I told Trevor it "wasn't terrible."  He beamed and said, "Well, that's a ringing endorsement coming from you!"

Friday, December 5, 2014

Quiet Time

There are no empty seats
so I'll sit on the floor. 
There are books on the chairs
and coats piled by the door.

The counters are covered
with dishes galore
and dust bunnies THIS big
I've ne'er seen before.

But the house has gone still,
there's no noise anymore,
except Max turning pages
and Molly's soft snore.

There's laundry to do
and dishes for sure -
but it can all wait,
or at least until four.

Because Mom needs a break,
she's tired to the core,
and if she doesn't sit down
there'll be no Mom no more.