That's a thing, right?
"Mom, Lincoln bit me!"
"Mom, I feel like I'm going to throw up."
"Why are Lincoln's eyes so goopy?...Is it pink eye?"
"Hello, Mrs. Wallace? Your daughter is in the principal's office."
"Mom, Lincoln spilled the crackers/cereal/popcorn?"
"No!" (insert hideous three-year-old screeching)
"Mom, my leg is bleeding..."
"Mom, Lincoln is pooping on the couch!"
I have taken a lot of deep breaths this week. When people ask how things are going, I want to say what Kelly Kapoor from "The Office" said:
“Awesome. I mean…awful, but…sometimes awesome.”
Why am I blogging at 9:00 on a Sunday morning when I should be in church? No, really, why? Mason wants to know. He just said to me, "Mom, that's not important." He wants me to play video games with him, and Lincoln is yelling through the baby gate that acts as a barrier to the den. I really wish there were an actual door there...
This morning I woke up at 6am, showered, said goodbye to Chad as he left for work, got the kids ready for church, and made myself gorgeous. Because, by golly, I was at least going to LOOK like I had it together. So the kids and I made it to church on time, and I was looking good in my heels and red lipstick. Awesome.
And then Lincoln did what he always does to me at church. He squeals, tries to escape, drops cheerios on the floor, breaks my necklace (seriously, why do I still wear necklaces to church?), smears my lipstick, and grabs/pinches anything within reach. Awful.
Then Bree pulls my bag towards her and leans over it, clutching her stomach. "Um...Bree are you about to throw up in my bag?" "My tummy doesn't feel good." I send her running to the bathroom, while I try to glean what spiritual replenishment I can from the Sacrament. As soon as it's over, I herd the kids back out of the church, drive them home, and get there just in time for Bree to vomit in the toilet.
...so, I'm chalking this morning up as a success because I didn't have to scrub puke out of the carpet between church pews this morning. Awesome.
Yesterday I got to go out by myself to meet Heather and my mom for lunch and a movie. Awesome. We saw "Moms' Night Out." I laughed a lot, which I expected. I did not expect to cry. I felt like I was watching my life play out on the screen. And I felt like that mom who is stress-paralyzed because she can't handle her kids, even though she loves them to pieces, even though being a mom has always been her life's dream. I constantly feel that I am not good enough, that I have moments that I'm not proud of far too often. But the movie reminded me of something important:
"Jesus will always be loving you with His arms open wide, just for being you...I doubt the good Lord made a mistake giving your kiddos the mama he did. So you just be you...He'll take care of the rest."
I needed to hear that as much as I needed that Moms' Day Out with my mother and sister-in-law. And even though I return home to sticky floors and hungry kids, I can rely on that God-given strength to make up the difference.
So no, today did not play out the way I thought it would. But I love my family fiercely. When I take the time amid the craziness to really look at them, they are so beautiful. And being a mom is still my dream job.