Sent my girls to the kitchen…

on an ant hunt. I said, “get them all or they will take over the house from the crumbs you left at lunch” My kids eat like coyotes and leave scraps in heaps under their chairs. The ants have practically nominated the trio of scrap leavers president of their colony.

Today I sent them into the kitchen armed with shoes and toilet paper to rid the kitchen of ants. As my middle went to go wash the carnage off her shoe, my oldest came to show me her “little friend”. The last ant left of the hunt. I took a picture, then grabbed him and rolled him into a ball. Yeah, we’re those kind of parents. I told her to get back into the kitchen and found myself calling out, “FINISH THEM!!!!” as she walked away. They are still in the kitchen, one is finishing them, while the other is attempting to corral survivors and tell the ants it’s going to be okay.

A life lesson from kids. No matter what, one way or the other, it’s going to be okay. It all depends on your perspective.

Update to this post: my oldest convinced the youngest to collect ants on a tray and make an ant family. They want to grow up to farm ants. What have I done? Been crowned Bad guy of the ant world. Proud.

She said,

“for women, shame is do it all, so it perfectly and never let them see you sweat…Shame, for women, is this web of unobtainable, conflicting, competing expectations about who we’re supposed to be. And it’s a straitjacket.” Dr. Brene Brown in her 2012 TedTalk.

Let me tell you, I sweat, but I’m free of my straitjacket. I have no qualms with knowing I’m not a pinterest perfection mom. Ladies, your kids just need to know you love’em, will listen to them, and be there when it all hits the fan- no matter what. Give yourself a pat on the back and go take a walk outside. It will soothe your soul.

You are always enough.

Milestone moment

For 5 years, punctuality has been a lost word in our house. I used to be one of those people who said timeliness is next to Godliness (Substituting cleanliness, since dirt dont hurt). After my second child was born the clock became a decoration and time has had NO MEANING. seconds became hours, hours became minutes, minutes sometimes felt like an eternity.

Today I planned to leave at 8:30am. We were pulling out of the driveway at 8:30am. I wont give you the breakdown of how that happened, but I will say I have at least one child with wet pants in the back seat because I let her test her theory that she doesn’t really need to pee before we leave…

I’m still celebrating, because it means so much to the personal fiber of my selectively OCD soul. We have made progress as a tribe. Celebrate the little things.

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.