Lesson #86

Farts: My proud mom moment

I really detest the actual word, "fart." It is just one of those words that actually conjures up a sensory reaction from me. It must trigger my smell sensation in some way. At any rate, I just don't really like the word at all. For sure, there are far worse words in the urban dictionary. But I have more tolerance for most of the four-letter words.

Given the fact that I have two boys and one grown boy living in our home, it is inevitable that this word will float around, causing copious amounts of laughter for years to come. I don't allow this word to be said at our home. I ask that the kids say "toot" or "pas gas" if absolutely necessary.

Yesterday, my husband gave the priceless gift of potty knowledge to my six-year-old. In true dad fashion, he dropped a bomb on Max just as he was headed up to bed. I am not sure what compelled him to share this nugget of boy humor. Maybe he was trying to torture me or just bond in some weird guy way. Whatever the reason, he decided to introduce the term, "SBD" to Max.

Silent But Deadly

Without knowing what it meant, my sweet little boy was rolling with laughter. Upon explanation, "silent but deadly" grew even more giggles.

I looked at my husband and rolled my eyes. "Thanks for that," I stated.

Of course, not even 12 hours later, as he crawled into bed to wake us up, Max repeated his favorite new catch phrase. It was as if he had been waiting all night to use it. Not only did he use it liberally at our house that morning, he boasted the fact that he imparted this newly gained insight to his friends at camp later in the day. Not my proudest moment as a mom. But when I went to sign him out that afternoon, my embarrassment grew. His teacher informed me that Max explained his dad had taught him that at home. Now I am just glowing with pride!

Lesson #85

Don't pee in the dark

This is a lesson I really learned the hard way.

I am a very light sleeper. Once I am awakened in the night, it can be very difficult for me to fall back to sleep. With each newborn baby we brought home, I would try anything I could think of to limit my time awake during each night feeding. Now that we are well out of the baby stage, you would think that the middle of the night disruptions would have come to an end. Not in the case of my two boys.

On any given night, I am typically wakened by one or both of my boys between 1-4 times. Whether it is wetting the bed, needing a drink of water, hearing thunder or falling out of the bed, I am called out of my peaceful slumber to head upstairs and tend to some need.

After Miles cried out for water at 1:45, I got a nice stretch of sleep. But Max came down at 5:15 after wetting the bed. After getting his sheets changed, in the dark to try to prevent myself from fully waking up, I got back in bed. Alas, at 5:40, Miles was wandering the halls upstairs. He sought help in his older brother's room. Max then cam down urgently telling me that Miles needed to potty. I intercepted Miles and escorted him quickly into our little hall bathroom. In an attempt to keep us both in a sleepy haze, I left the lights off. I assisted him in standing to potty only to hear him say, "poop."

"Oh, you need to poop," I asked?

"No, I poopy already mommy," he replied.

And that he did. There was a great mess of poop all over the inside of his PJs and legs. That is what I get for attempting to salvage any hopes for a return to bed. At the risk of subjecting readers to the graphic nature of this bathroom visit, I'll just say that the cleanup was a two person job.

Lesson #84

Don't take it personally

I am definitely a people pleaser. It is just part of my personality. I have always possessed the need to be liked by others. To a certain extent, this can be a good thing. But this trait also has some major downfalls. For example, I tend to take things personally and can be very sensitive to the opinions of others.

As a mom, many of my personality traits have shifted to a degree. My perfectionistic nature has softened in the midst of messy kids, never ending laundry and an unending to-do list. My spontaneous streak, once non-existent, has really brightened. When it comes to my need for approval from others...I am still trying to adapt.

Kids can be harsh critics. They don't tend to hold anything back, especially very young kids. They won't hesitate to tell you that they "hate" the clothes you picked out or to disapprove of your artwork. As a passionate cook and baker, I have always taken pride in creating delicious dinners. The arrival of my three kids into the world has put a little bit of a snag into my meal planning. But I still strive to change up the menu, making tasty and nutritious meals.

After a long day of chasing kids, doing laundry, wiping butts and cleaning up, cooking takes my last bit of energy. Sometimes I flat out despise the thought of cooking. So when I manage to pull something together that I think tastes pretty great, there is nothing more defeating than harsh criticism from 3 out of 5 taste testers. "I no like this. This tastes terrible. I hate potatoes. Don't you know I can't eat this? This smells disgusting!"

You name it, I have heard it. Now, this doesn't happen every night. In fact, it probably happens less than half of the time. But when I am at the end of my rope, exhausted and hungry, nothing crushes the spirit like a negative review from my number one fans.

When I think about it logically, I know they aren't trying to hurt my feelings. They will one day appreciate all that I do for them and even want to come home from college just to eat my yummy meals. I try to keep this in mind as I watch my two-year-old spit out the labor of love I have put on his plate.

Lesson #83

Just add water

Toddlers are pretty simple creatures. Sure, all of the interactive toys, battery operated cars and talking robots serve their purpose. There are so many educational and fun options for entertainment. But when it comes down to it, toddlers don't need to much to entertain themselves.

Today, after a hectic morning of car troubles, I was happy to arrive at a friend's house for a low-key play date. She had the best set up! In addition to a wading pool filled with toys, she had an impressive hose with spray feature. I know, super high-tech gadgets! As far as the kids were concerned, nothing could have been better. They were so happy to splash, run and pour that the three adults managed to converse in full sentences about actual adult topics! I thought this might be a mythical kind of play date experience. I had heard about such occurrences, yet never really participated in one.

It ended up being the best morning! Some nice iced tea, a few healthy snacks and some wet kids. And all we needed to do was add the water!

Lesson #82

This kid is tough as nails!

Having a boy as our third child, I think we kind of expected that this kid would be naturally tough. His older brother is the definition of rough and tumble. And although his sister isn't exactly a bruiser, she dishes out her share of blows when feeling threatened or annoyed.

Miles has been a fighter from the start. Arriving into the world 7 weeks early, he had to overcome a few hurdles from the get go. Over the past 2 1/2 years, this little man has endured more injuries than Max and Zoey combined. He has broken a leg, gotten stitches and sported many a goose egg on his forehead. I am not sure if it is a result of being the third child or just his accident prone nature. He is definitely very daring and will try to do things his older siblings do well before he should be doing them.

Yesterday marked yet another milestone injury for our brave little guy. Outside saying goodbye to family friends, I didn't bother to throw a pair of shoes on the kids. We were just popping out and heading back in. Well, in the short three minutes we were outside, Miles managed to step on a huge nail sticking straight up out of a board. Apparently, Max had hammered it through last week and failed to tell me. Over an inch of nail was exposed so it was definitely a painful incident.

There was a lot of crying, many tears and more blood that I have ever seen come out of one of my kids. I eventually brought the bleeding to a stop and applied a band aid. He went to sleep shortly after so fortunately, it was forgotten for a while. He was a little tender-footed for the first few hours of the day today but was back to running by 11:00 am. Nothing is going to slow this kid down. I only wish I had his tolerance for pain!

Lesson #81

Be the mom you want them to remember

Every mom would love to be the "cool mom." Wouldn't it be great to be the mom that all of the kids rave about? The fun mom. They best mom ever. The mom that kids wants to actually hang out with in their free time. I would love to be all of those things to my kids. The reality is, however, that in order to be the best mom for my kids, I have to be the mean mom at times. The no fair mom. The mom that doesn't understand.

I don't live in a fantasy world so I know that there is a balance. When I really think about the kind of mom I want to be, I think about what I want my kids to remember of me when they are adults. It is not possible to be the best mom all of the time but I can live my life as a parent trying to keep that thought in the back of my mind.

When my kids are raising kids of their own, I want them to think about how I raised them. In short, I want to be a role model for my future adult children.

I want them to look back and remember all of the fun adventures we had, not the toys I bought.
I want them to remember splashing in mud puddles and getting filthy, me right alongside them.
I want them to remember us having dance parties on top of the picnic table, belting out the Rolling Stones.
I want them to remember feeding baby goats with bottles. Them climbing my legs in terror as I was bumrushed by the thirsty, filthy little goats.
I want them to remember us all screaming on Space Mountain as I closed my eyes and held on for dear life.
I want them to remember staying up late and licking marshmallow and chocolate off our fingers after making s'mores.
I want them to remember night swimming in lieu of a bath.
I want them to remember me reading book after book, stopping every 8 seconds to answer questions about the lineage of Snow White.
I want them to remember us rolling down the hill, dashing through sprinklers in the neighbor's yard.
I want them to remember eating birthday cake before dinner.
I want them to remember us chasing the ice cream truck down in our bare feet.
I want them to remember shaving cream parties in the back yard and water balloon fights.
I want them to remember shooting me with water guns.
I want them to remember our pirate attacks and princess rescue missions.
I want them to remember us dressing up like ninjas and ballerinas, building forts in the basement.
I want them to remember catching fireflies way past bed time.
I want them to remember us snuggling in my bed at 5:30 in the morning, watching cartoons on a Saturday morning.
I want them to remember me teaching them to ride their bikes.
I want them to remember me teaching them letters and numbers with sidewalk chalk.
I want them to remember me kissing away their scrapes and bruises and breaking up their fights. 

More than anything I want them to remember me as a mom that loved them every single day of their lives. A mom that never stopped loving them even on the days that I wanted to be alone, to hide in my room, to cry out of frustration, to need a time out.

Being a mom is my full-time job. I love the job but sometimes need a vacation day. I know that when my kids are grown or even at the age when mom is definitely not cool at all, I will absolutely miss these days. What I can do now, is live each day with purpose and strive to be the mom I always want them to remember.

Lesson #80

Worst of enemies and best of friends

I know from personal experience that sibling rivalry can get pretty messy. But I also know that these relationships, the longest many people will experience, are the best ones I have. I have a brother about 1 1/2 years my elder and a sister almost four years younger. Presently, I have extremely close and amazing bonds with them both. But I venture to guess that my parents might have a different tale to tell about our childhood days.

I always wanted to have my kids close together in age. I know this comes from my own experience as a kid and wanting my offspring to have siblings within a few years. My plan worked out just perfectly. The only problem is that the closeness in age is at times a detriment rather than an advantage.

Stuck in the middle of two spirited boys, Zoey often feels out of place and left out. She struggles to find her place between them, yearning to do all big brother does. She gets frustrated by the mere presence of her younger sibling. They bicker all day long and at times, things can get physical. But there are also those shining moments when they do something so heart warming, I almost forget about all of the rough spots.

Today, I went to Zoey's Perfectly Powerful Princess camp to watch their play. Max was down the hall at his School of Rock camp and popped in to watch. Zoey lit up when she saw him walk in. She couldn't hide her excitement as she waved frantically from the side of the stage. Max coyly smiled back and waved.

After the performance was over, I asked Max how he was able to get out of his camp to come watch. He told me he had the choice to come watch their show or to have his face painted like a rock star. Anyone that knows my son knows that he loves nothing more than a good piece of face art. I was so touched by his gesture to come support his little sister. But even more important was how much it mean to Zoey.