During these last five years, I've learned that all things come full circle, especially the crap you pulled as a child. Let me take this opportunity to apologize to my mother... again. And offer my condolences to my own children, who are really in for it when they are parents themselves.
Here is a top five list of the wild things they've done, just so you get the picture.
5- I've scrubbed (insert shudder here) poop off the walls on more than one occasion. Side note: there are now crayons in every room of the house in case my daughter feels the need to be "creative" again.
4- I've cleaned fruitloops- and poor, deceased fish- out of our family fish tank. This is a personal favorite of mine, if only because of my son's reaction when I woke up and caught them "feeding" the fish. He puts his little hands in the air and goes "Ok, Momma, now don't get mad..."
3- There's the time my oldest stuck a paper towel in the toaster and I had to rip the flaming thing out of the wall, hurl it out the back door, and then let the fire inspector inside in my bathrobe. Oh, and I was nine months pregnant.
2- My daughter snuck into the fridge and decided to "make" breakfast for her and her brothers. This included milk on the rug, cereal in the bed, and raw egg EVERYWHERE! Another side note: This started a whole butt-load of hoarding adventure. There are far too many to list, but use your imagination. Trust me, you won't be far off.
1- And probably the best- and least destructive- moment of all was when my daughter painted my son's toenails florescent pink. In his sleep. With a sharpie.
I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I no longer sleep, and recently found my first gray hair. But hey, at least I'll never run short of writing material! I love you my crazy, amazing kids!!!
Hooray for wonderful mayhem!
-Ali
Showing posts with label Kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kids. Show all posts
Friday, October 12, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
A break from my high-speed hilarity
As the morning progressed, several ideas for today's blog ran through my head. I could write about the ridiculous things I found in even more ridiculous places, or the little corner of our living room that my daughter has made into her own personal haven. I could write about the seven quick-changes baby girl made every time she went down the hall into her bedroom, or the woman-beast war I just had with my 75 pound lab in the backyard. And maybe they will all appear in a different post one day, but for now, there is something a little more serious that I wanted to get off my chest.
I'm sure every parent feels like they have failed their children at one time or another. I constantly have that nagging feeling in the back of my mind, this week in particular. I'm convinced that if there was a program that could read your future and display it for a committee (yes, this is the sci-fi, distopian side of my brain talking), they would have confiscated my uterus so I wouldn't have had the chance to procreate.
And here is why:
On Friday an incident ensued in my household that involved tears and blood and five stitches in my four year old son's right pinkie. I was in the shower when it happened. Not only should I have been there to stop this, but the responsible parties should have known better. I should have taught them better. Either way you look at it, it was essentially my fault.
Which leads me to the point of all of this.
Not a one of us is perfect. We are human. That title gives us the right to screw up every now and then. And even though I feel like the worst Mommy in the whole wide world right now, I have been blessed with the opportunity to learn from this and do better next time. I have also been blessed with very forgiving, loving, beautiful children who love me despite my gray spots.
And hide sit-on bouncy balls under the sink to remind me that life goes on.
-Ali
I'm sure every parent feels like they have failed their children at one time or another. I constantly have that nagging feeling in the back of my mind, this week in particular. I'm convinced that if there was a program that could read your future and display it for a committee (yes, this is the sci-fi, distopian side of my brain talking), they would have confiscated my uterus so I wouldn't have had the chance to procreate.
And here is why:
On Friday an incident ensued in my household that involved tears and blood and five stitches in my four year old son's right pinkie. I was in the shower when it happened. Not only should I have been there to stop this, but the responsible parties should have known better. I should have taught them better. Either way you look at it, it was essentially my fault.
Which leads me to the point of all of this.
Not a one of us is perfect. We are human. That title gives us the right to screw up every now and then. And even though I feel like the worst Mommy in the whole wide world right now, I have been blessed with the opportunity to learn from this and do better next time. I have also been blessed with very forgiving, loving, beautiful children who love me despite my gray spots.
And hide sit-on bouncy balls under the sink to remind me that life goes on.
-Ali
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
A little alone time...
In my house, the hope of privacy is so long gone that it's comical. I can't remember the last time I took a shower without a baby monitor or a toddler checking to see what I was doing. And potty time? Let's just say even a locked door can't keep my little ones (or my husband) at bay for very long.
That being said, my writing time usually consists of me juggling a child or two on my lap while they juggle a bowl of cereal and a cuppy. I'm getting rather good at typing with one hand, and even better rushing pages out in the twenty or so minutes my kids are distracted by the television. Right now, my little girl is lounging across me, holding her mouth open so I can feed her cereal, even though she is fully capable of doing this herself. And since I am Mommy, that is exactly what I am doing.
And I don't mind one bit, because childhood is fleeting. Next thing I know, my babies will be teenagers, and these precious moments will be nothing but fond memories. Maybe it will be easier to finish a book with a quiet house and an empty lap, but I am more than wiling to wait fifteen years to find out!
Enjoy those little moments!
-Ali
That being said, my writing time usually consists of me juggling a child or two on my lap while they juggle a bowl of cereal and a cuppy. I'm getting rather good at typing with one hand, and even better rushing pages out in the twenty or so minutes my kids are distracted by the television. Right now, my little girl is lounging across me, holding her mouth open so I can feed her cereal, even though she is fully capable of doing this herself. And since I am Mommy, that is exactly what I am doing.
And I don't mind one bit, because childhood is fleeting. Next thing I know, my babies will be teenagers, and these precious moments will be nothing but fond memories. Maybe it will be easier to finish a book with a quiet house and an empty lap, but I am more than wiling to wait fifteen years to find out!
Enjoy those little moments!
-Ali
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