I Am a Perfect Mother

I raise my voice too often.
I hate cleaning, and therefore
My house is not spotlessly clean.
I loathe soccer games.

I raise my voice too much.
I don't have enough patience.
I long for date nights, and
Laundromat nights.

I reach the end of my rope too often.
I hate it when my kids try to help with chores.
My kids always need a bath,
Even if I just bathed them.

I feed them processed food sometimes,
And don't always cook elaborate meals.
I let them watch TV
and climb trees.

I recognize their needs and
Meet them when I can.
I recognize their wants
And try to fulfill them.

I love them unconditionally
Always, forever, and beyond.
I play with them.
I teach them things.

They are the reason I breathe
The reason I get out of bed.
I will never hurt them.
I will always try to keep them safe.

I will always do the best I can,
And I will take care of myself so
I can always be here for them.
I teach them skills and manners.

I respect them, cherish them,
Adore them, live for them.
I am their mom and that means
I am a perfect mother.

This is pretty poorly written poem (it doesn't even rhyme, Kes!), but that's not the point.  I've said it myself, and I hear it all the time - "the perfect mother."  But I think we have a skewed idea of perfection in the mothering department.  You don't have to do everything right all the time, and you don't have to do everything the best.  Love your children, and do right by them.  That's perfection.

10 Things My Kids Don't Know About Me

There are more than 10.  There will always be more than 10, at least until I've moved on from this life.  But I think these are the ten that will actually affect them someday (some sooner than later).

1. I have a tattoo.  By the time they figure out what a tattoo is, I may have more than one.

2. I hate Dora.

3. I've "done that" with my husband more than the three times required to produce the children.

4. Going to the bathroom is actually very routine and mundane, even for me.

5. There are moms out there who make mac and cheese even better than I do.
5b. There are moms out there who never make mac and cheese.  Ever.

6. I've done things in the past that I may have to lie about when they are teenagers.

7. I wanted to name all of them something other than what they are named, and, for the most part, wanted their genders to all be opposite (of course I love them for the anatomical parts they have, but I'm just sayin).

8. I'm actually terrible at drawing Mickey Mouse and Phineas Flynn, and even more terrible at cake decorating.

9. I never changed my last name.

10. I think their boogers, however interestingly shaped they may be, are gross.

Be Careful What You Say

We hear it over and over from everyone around us - how our children are little parrots, how they hear everything we say and are likely to repeat it at the worst of times.  And we ALL know it's true.

When my son was about 2, he picked up "the D-word" somewhere, and every time something would go wrong in his life, out it would come.  He failed at a video game? "D-word."  He dropped something? "D-word."  I hung my head in shape when he said it in the grocery store, or the church play group.  Eventually he learned to stop saying it, or it stopped being cool, or something along those lines.

Now that he's a 3-year-old, it's even more pronounced.  When he drops a toy on his foot and says "aw, fiddlesticks!" I laugh.  When a toy breaks into pieces in his hands and he says "aw, w-t-f?" (letters not words), I sort of frown at him.  Oops.  I should probably stop saying that one.

But what people don't usually mention is how kids will easily pick up on the GOOD things you say as well.  Like, the best way to teach a kid to say "please" and "thank you" is to say them yourself in the appropriate situation.  But we kind of all know this - it's obvious.  But I never REALLY realized until just this weekend, that this really pertains to EVERYTHING.

We showed up to soccer practice early on Saturday, and while waiting for the coach Luke and I started kicking the ball around.  A little girl from his team walked over and asked to play.  They started kicking it back and forth, and every time the little girl would kick it Luke would tell her "Good kick!  Great job!" "Kick it again!  Yay!"

And my little 2-year-old cheers for me when I do simple tasks, such as using the potty, putting a toy away, or drawing a circle.  "Good JOB, Mom!  Yay, Mom!"

I guess I always knew that positive reinforcement was the way to go, and that it's how we shape them into decent human beings, and teach them how to treat people.  It's how we start preparing them to become good parents when it's their time.

But I spend so much time specifically thinking about what I SHOULDN'T say to my children, that I rarely stop and make sure that I'm saying all the right things.  It feels pretty good to know that I have been, but it woke me up to the fact that what we SHOULD say is more important than what we SHOULDN'T, and I feel like lots of us (parents) have been concentrating on the wrong side of the spectrum.

Surviving Church With 3 kids under 4

I think the title says it all.  I'm going to talk about surviving church with three small children, preferably without heading to an institution afterwards.  Church should be "where we go to learn about and worship God" (this is what I tell my children).  But for my family, it's basically "where we go to lose our minds while we try to keep our children under control."

I readily admit that my children are not the most well-behaved children in the world - they don't listen to me in public, because they know I'm not going to strangle them Homer Simpson style where people can see us. My kids are always loud, but when they are pissed off they are LOUD.

So I end up doing everything I can to keep my children from crying and disrupting the whole service. I am a complete push over, and they get whatever they want as long as they just. stay. quiet.  I'm sure the people sitting behind me think I am that over indulgent parent that never says no.  I'm really not - just at church.  Finally we make it through the first hour, and I can breathe a small sigh of relief.  We made it, and few people, if any, came out of thinking I'm a horrible parent (except for the people sitting behind me of course).  The entire time I am likely wanting to strangle either them or myself - whichever will get me out of the pew faster.

Hours two and three are easier, because #s 1 and 2 go their separate ways.  This is where I feel terrible for #1's teachers, because I know that he is horrible for them, too.  I know he doesn't sit still, I know he doesn't be quiet, and I know he causes a raucous.  Basically, I'm well aware that he's a pain in the butt.  This is probably where people start putting together what the see in the first hour (permissive push-over parent) and how he behaves in the second (expectant, impatient toddler).  Really though, he's just always like that!

#3 stays with me for the second 2/3s of church, but the toys and snacks I bring are never cool enough, and the room we are in is never as cool as.. well, the rest of the building.  So I spend two hours chasing her around in circles trying to not bother other people who are able to learn because their kids are 18 months or older, or immobile.  At the end of the 2 hours, I realize that I heard about 10 minutes of either lesson, and retained approximately 4 words.

Why did I go again?  Not only did I learn nothing, but now I'm completely exhausted, and I'm pretty sure that everyone at church thinks I am totally overwhelmed at home by my children, and they totally see through my fake "LIFE IS GREAT!!!!!" smile.  But really, I'm not overwhelmed (most days).  I am overwhelmed by them in situations where I need to have control but actually have none - like church! So while my "life is great!" smile is fake as I am dragging my children through the building, prepared to knock them over the head and (gently and lovingly) set them into their age-appropriate child restraints, life really IS great 5-6 days of the week.

So, here's what I do to keep church a little LESS awful than it otherwise could be, because a little less is better than no less?

1. Pack snacks.  Pack a variety of snacks.  Make sure they are not messy snacks.  Pack the variety of snacks in a variety of containers so that you can constantly switch them out.  I have Take n Toss bowls, plastic baggies, little animal bowl things I got at the dollar store.

2. Pack toys.  Pack so many toys that you're sure your children would be occupied for days.  These will probably last you about 35 minutes.  At least they do for me, since my kids have some form of ADD or something.  In the following picture we have: finger puppets, two balls, a shaker, two matchbox cars, a set of dice, a camera, a teething ring, flash cards, crayons and paper, several different books, a random Perry the Platypus toy, and a fancy ball.  Three kids ages 3, 2, and 1? Yeah, even this kind of selection doesn't last long.

3. Alternate your toys and snacks, and reserve the choices as only for church.  My kids get Whales at church.  Healthy? Not at all.  That's why they like them so much, and why they only get them at church.  I swap out the books and flash cards every week, and some of the toys as well, just to keep things fresh and fun.


4. If you have a SmartPhone, install Toddler Lock.  It's amazing.


5. Take a deep breath, and realize that if your children make a tiny bit of noise, it's still okay.  The pulpit has a microphone, and many other people have children who are not sitting silently and holding their breath.  You're not alone.  Others understand.


And there you have it.  That's how I survive church.  Sort of.