It’s been 11 years…

I caught my reflection driving down the road and thought to myself, “talk about history repeating itself.” It brought tears to my eyes, because it’s been 11 years since we lost my dad to cancer. I still miss him like it was yesterday. The guy who drove around town in this same red truck, who we teased mercilessly because his left arm was more tann than his right. A truck arm if you will. Not a day goes by when I dont want to call him to complain about a workplace event, or get his advice, or wish he were here to wrestle with my kids. I wish he could have met my husband. I think they would have liked each other, because they’re an awful lot alike. We both moved back to Anderson, IN after doing our growing up in far away places. It makes me feel okay with my choices when I doubt them the most, because I loved growing up here so I think my girls will too.

The anniversary of his death always falls right around mother’s day, sometimes on it. Thanks for that Dad, you always did have a flair for the dramatic. While on this day I remember my dad- I want to honor my mom. Strange bedfellows, grief and honor. Dead and living. Always so hand in hand. My mom is like me, or I guess I’m like my mom really. We want to be free to be ourselves. I am always amazed by her, even though we do clash and I make fun of her at times. She’s who I want to be when I grow up. The one who has the courage to stick it out for richer or poorer, through sickness & in health. I give her a hard time, but secretly want to be her. Happy Mother’s Day & hugs on the day you sent Dad home to tell his best stories to a very good listener.

Alone time

I love that all my kids talk to themselves when left alone in a room. All of them, and every single time. It lets me know they’ll never really be alone.

Although I wish whoever Mira talks to would cut out the, “wouldn’t it be fun to surprise your mom by sprinkling cheese all over the house? She’ll think its fairydust.”

The start of my cheese trail…it goes to every room.

A combo.

I thought this certainly deserved an honorable mention, given its the first time it’s happened to me. Even with 3 kids, this combo has never been seen in our house.

I walked into the kids’ bathroom after bedtime. Lifted the seat. Grossed out because one monkey left their business in the toilet, with little watery poo drips from an unwiped bum on the seat. Next to it on the left side was a smear of toothpaste.

I don’t want to know how, when, or the order of things because this time mommy is the one who JUST CAN’T. I couldn’t even take a picture. My mind is going wild, just like my tiny savages run amuck, so does my mind wander.

Where the dark things grow

The kids have been breathing in smog in the back half of the van. They’ve started to request “open air” the past few days. I decided to see what was going on……it’s truly the most disgusting mess I’ve ever cleaned up. People, I deal in rental properties & due to the location and difficulty of cleaning, this was worse than a 2 bedroom I cleaned out where they didn’t have water for 5 days prior to leaving…

It was bad.

Milk had streamed through the back seats into the trunk space. I havent let them have milk in the car for at least a month, but those abandoned mcdonalds milk bottles were still stuck in the hole where you buckle the seat belt. Egg sandwich remnants stuffed down the side of seats into crevices. Peanut butter jelly half sandos were crammed behind car seats, deep into the seat crack. Did I mention a gallon of water had been slowly leaking, turning it all to soup? Mold villages were setting up refugee camps in the trunk as the seat crevices were full. Full of warm oozing life. It’s 40 degrees out, and all the van doors were open, but that seat crack was still warm with mushy life breeding God knows what. I’ve gone through 3 pairs of rubber gloves and 4 norwex cloths. I use 4 for a WHOLE HOUSE.

New rule:no food in the car. Scream, cry, do your thing. No food.

Things that go BUMP

I heard the clink of glass in the kitchen while I was folding laundry. Ignored. Heard it again. Went to investigate. Found this:

When asked what in the world is going on? Crafting, for daddy’s birthday.

I have never crafted in my life.

#craftlife #momsohard

P.s. yes, it IS a pound of bacon by the milk. These kids dream big.

The ad all mom’s want answered

WANTED: Someone who loves an orderly house, and believes cleanliness is next to godliness. You will be required to do laundry, not forgetting to pre-rinse all speed, pooped &vomited upon items. Clean all surfaces and keep all items in their place so our cluttered house looks like a minimalist modern masterpiece. Cook whole 30 compliant meals that taste like they are not at all compliant. Wake up between midnight and 1am & carry my slumbering 3 & 5 yr old to toilet so they don’t wet the bed.

References required, interviews next week. Please submit CV to steelemommy@gmail.com.

Salary: non-negotiable. Unpaid in cash, but I’ll be your best friend forever.

Pictured:my laundry pile after 2 straight, uninterrupted hours of folding with two more loads in the dryer. #thestruggleisreal #momsohard #laundrypile

Independence.

I wouldn’t let Mira pour her own granola on her yogurt. I mean, she’s 1.5. So in her rage she picked up her bowl and shot put it across the room, where it landed face down. I looked at her with a stone cold gaze, and she snarled at me and stared back in defiance. I would have taken a pic, but currently #ijustcant

She is her mother’s daughter.

My heart sank.

My oldest has been learning about presidents at school. She announced after school today that her all time favorite president was…. “Donald Trump”.

My heart sank. She’d picked up some uber conservative rhetoric at school. She doesn’t understand we believe in humility. Servant leadership. I’ve failed as a parent. I asked her why, to try and gauge what research articles I needed to pull. Her reply. “His name. He has different words that make up his name. Donald. Don and old. Trunk. It’s both a part of an elephant, which I love, and also a box you put things in. So many different words.”

I love this kid. She doesn’t even know his real name. We’re safe from reality.

Mind over matter

My eldest switched to being a picky eater, preferring sugar to most other food groups, after an excellent start of eating everything under the sun. She closed her mind to the miracle of food variety around 2 years of age.

We always try to put one thing on her plate we KNOW she will eat so she doesn’t get hangry before bed. Tonight I thought, “enough is enough. I KNOW she will like the minced chicken if she just tries it.” So I declared, “treats for anyone who eats everything on their plate.” The littles licked their plates clean and were savoring a delicious chocolate bar as my first born was almost moved to tears at the mountain before her. I caved to let her have ONE BITE of chicken and dessert would be hers. ONE BITE.

She took a bite, tears started streaming down her face. She turned red as she swallowed. Then that little nugget BARFED all over the dinner table. Looked at me with sad eyes and said, “now can I have a treat since I ate a bit of everything?”

Oh. The humanity.