Reflections from a coffee cup

As I'm putting away dishes tonight, I look at our "his and hers" coffee mugs (yes, from Disneyland - it was Paris, at least, don't judge me) and realize how appropriate the illustrations are on each mug:

Mine (the "J") shows Mickey juggling a ball (he's not goofing around, he's juggling - work with me on this) - and the Hubs' mug has the classic "D'oh" expression on Mickey's face.

Apt, I tell you.

So then, while I wait for the kettle to come to a boil, I realize how much a reflection of me all my mugs are. Like this one, my favorite, JUMBO mug. The one I had to hunt down (after it broke in the sink) from the company that makes them, as they had one remaining one in their showroom. I'm pretty sure they weren't using it, but if they were, I don't care. I love it that much.

Mommy DOES need coffee.

And the reverse? Equally true. 

Give me some sugar or get the hell out of my way.

And then there is the last of my mugs:

If you can't read it, it says "I'll have a caffe mocha vodka valium latte to go, please!"

I think that sums up my days quite nicely.

Now if you don't mind, I really, really need some coffee.

A Post Title I'm Really Proud of

Today is Day 3 of SITS "Back to Blogging Event", and today's assignment is to share a post whose title I'm really proud of. To be honest, my favorite title is still in the "Drafts Column" - which means I really, really need to get that bugger posted. It was a tough call. One of my favorite post titles was "Bunnycide", but the one I chose?

Motherhood is a Blessing. Right?

I love my kids. I really do.

But somedays (like every morning at 8am) they can drive me absolutely mad. Cuckoo.

Nutso.

And, really, when I say "they", I mean Pea. (I'm just trying to stay fair and not single one out, but I can't).

My daughter is a sight to behold in the mornings. Seriously, I contemplate giving HER some coffee to start her morning, because its just that bad.

Don't get me wrong - she is a lovely, happy little girl. I knwo this, because she can turn that temper OFF just as quickly as she turns it on, and then she is the sweetest thing outside of a candy store. Like a big, squishy, huggy lump of chocolate.

Mmmmm.....chocolate.....

Sorry. (Focus......)

So dealing with tantrums means striking a balance of trying not to lose my temper and instead see the humor in the situation - without laughing. Because that would make her go through the ceiling, and then she gets completely unmanageable!

You tell me how difficult this would be....

• when your daughter is biting her underpants (in hand, not while wearing them, although that would be even funnier) and then throwing them against the wall, while yelling "these are STUPID! Throw them AWAY"
• when she's lying naked in the middle of her hot pink furry area rug, rolling around yelling "I am NOT getting dwessed and I am NOT going to school"
• when she is sitting on the bottom step, arms crossed, bottom lip stuck out far enough to land a small bird on, one shoe on, one shoe against the opposite wall where she has thrown it after yelling "I'm NOT going to school"

The only reason I can keep from laughing is because I'm seriously pissed at the same time.

Since I know that the minute we pull into the car park by school, she'll be bouncing out of the car, yelling hello to her friends and screeching their names, and running into school, happpy to be there. I'm told that they see her as a happy, confident little girl - one who clearly knows her mind.

So I won't take it personally.

But, believe me, while I know that it is a blessing to have these two wonderful kids and get to experience everything through their eyes, there are days that it feels less like a blessing and more like penance, for every moment of grief we ever gave our parents.

And for that, Mom and Dad, I am truly, really sorry.

--------

This post in particular appeals to me because, really, it sums up WHY I blog - to capture moments of motherhood where, maybe not especially desirable, let me realize the beauty of my kids, their joy, their delight, their not-so-pretty moments....and to put it all in perspective.


'Cause, honestly, most days? I needs me some perspective.

I can't forget to give a shout-out to the sponsors of the "Back to Blogging" challenge, so go say "hi" to Standards of Excellence, Westar Kitchen and Bath, and Florida Builder Appliances.   

Mothering Sunday

Today was "Mothering Sunday", the UK equivalent of Mother's Day back in the US. The family pulled out all the stops today....the Hubs made us breakfast (AND did the dishes, woot woot).

Pea only had a slightly minor meltdown involving clothes. I had coffee in me and no dishpan hands, so she wasn't going to faze me today.

Later in the day, we all went to my favorite place for a Sunday dinner - the Pandy Inn in Dorstone. Not only is the food really yummy, but the building is old and loaded with character. Its not often you get candles at lunchtime with your kids.

Aren't they so cute you could just eat them up?

The Hubs did good. He's a handsome lad, isn't he? Boo was having a lot of fun, as impatient as he was. Oh well...he's just focusing on his pudding yet to come, I'm sure.

He was very anxious. You see, he LURVES Sticky Toffee Pudding.

And at the Pandy, they make a mean sticky toffee pudding. So there was a lot of bouncing in his seat, anxiously asking "is it time for pudding yet?"

(and, is it wrong that ANY time I hear someone say "pudding" here - as in dessert, not a la Bill Cosby and Jell-o - Pink Floyd echoes in my ears? "You can't have any pudding if you don't eat your meat.....")

But I digress...

Yup, that is the face of a boy anxious to get through his dinner so he can have dessert!

Pea, being Pea, who doesn't eat food that isn't a carbohydrate or consist of milk in some form or a fruit, is always difficult when it comes to Sunday dinners. You see, she doesn't eat roast - anything. Although, she DID try the roast turkey at school last week....

so...

while Boo will happily eat roast chicken, but for Pea we ordered the (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) roast "turkey." It only took the server a few tries to figure out what we were saying.

Not surprisingly, she didn't eat the tur-chicken. Or the roast potato (a.k.a. "giant chip"). Nope, can't fool her.

On the other hand, she DID eat her broccoli. (and mine). AND she ate the little peas out of the sugar snap pea pods. (and the Hub's sugar snaps. And my sugar snaps.) One. At. A. Time.

Oh well, at least she ate her veggies! 'Cause then she could eat some ice cream.

One of these days, I'm going to film her eating ice cream. She is the slowest, most deliberate eater you have ever seen. Yes, I'm going to film it, title it "gluttony" and then the Globe can project it on the big wall with their other art installations. (Hey, if I can watch leaves blowing in the breeze for 5 minutes, we can watch her eat ice cream. It's equally mesmerizing...)

She also manages, without fail, to coat both sleeves with chocolate ice cream (who needs a napkin when you have sleeves) as well as most other parts of her body, hair and face. And then she shared a chocolate kiss with Momma!

(But only a chocolate kiss. No chocolate ice cream.)

And a lucky momma I am.

So to all the mommas out there, young and old, mean or not, have a lovely, happy Mother's Day.

May you feel as appreciated and loved as you feel tired!

Confessions of a Bad Mommy

"Hi! My name is Jenn and I am a Bad Mommy".

There, I've said it - so maybe now I can stop beating myself up and get on with it all. See, I know this move is hard on everyone: the kids are out of sorts, out of their element, and lacking quality sleep (they are sharing a room). They are also lacking one level-minded parent, as the Hubs is already across the pond.

And now, they are missing another level-minded parent, as my brain checked out on Monday.

I realize I am supposed to be patient with the kids as this is confusing and difficult and blah blah blah.

However, I am having a hard time justifying mad jumping on the beds, the sofas and each other as being related to the move. Just as I'm having a hard time accepting that Boo's mad desire to throw his foam ball AS HARD AS HE CAN against any non-moving object because he is confused and sad.

They know I'm stressed. Like a lion tracking his prey, they know when I'm weak. And they are trouncing all over me.

So, being the bad mommy I am, I respond in the only way my desperate, sad mind can - I yell at them.

I know this is not the most efficient way to discipline. Especially when you are trying to get your 5yo son to stop YELLING at you. But remember, now, my mind took a cruise to Tahiti someone on Monday, between the time that Pea peed on the floor (no, she is not potty training yet - she has just decided that she doesn't want to pee, AT ALL, so is holding it until her involuntary sphincter gives out. See Kristy, I still remember that conversation we had on the way to Michigan City, many, many moons ago...) and Boo screaming that he couldn't go to camp yet, Sid the Science Kid was still on. (And don't get me going about Sid, or the rest of his freaky friends).

So while I start out in my calm, mommy-in-control voice, lately it deteriorates quickly to something on the same level as an 8 year old - yes, I'm only slightly more mature than my kids. Then I take a deep breath, put back on my mommy underwear, take a calming breath, throw back a shot of Jack (just kidding!) and try to regain control.

Its really quite wearing, this parenting thing.

And its a damn good thing they are cute!

All About Mom (from a 5 year olds point-of-view)

Today, Boo's class sang us songs in honor of Mother's Day! Their presentation included boisterous versions of "Skidamarink", "Mommy Loves Me (This I know)", and ____, complete with hand motions (I'm tellin' ya, I can see the future rock star in him now! Although, his friend Ellie has him hands-down in the volume department. She is the cutest thang I've ever seen!)

At the end of their songs, they took a deep bow (again, Boo, has his nailed) and ran madly towards their respective moms (or Dads, as the case may be) and presented us with handmade cards.

The front of my card looks like this:

HOW did he know that I've always coveted blond curly hair??? And a long, elegant neck. And HUGE eyes. (Sadly, he got the nose down, too.)

This is the inside:

In case you cannot read it, here is my son's take on Me, Mom extraordinaire:

ALL ABOUT MOM

What is your Mom's Name: Jen

What does she do? Goes to the gym

How old is she? 17 (Did I mention I love this kid?)

What is her favorite drink? Diet Coke

What is her favorite food? stop sign cereal * (noo, Pizza. Wait; chocolate)

What is her favorite color? blue

Where does she like to take you for fun? The train station

What message do you want to send her for Mother's Day? I Love You!

*Otherwise known as Barbara's Shredded Spoonfuls. Nothing in this house seems to go by its actual name....

All the moms had a great laugh comparing answers. It was interesting how many favorite things was "go to Target", and how many favorite drinks were some form of "wine".

Which, honestly, I'm quite surprised he didn't say - so kudos to Boo for not calling me out.

I love this boy!!!!