My Fortune Cookie fortune

Someone will be very proud of you

Do you mean today?

I wonder who that would be. My kids are too little I think to grasp such a concept. Plus they are right smack in the middle of it, too difficult for perspective. I don't think my husband gives it a thought to what I might have done today; he might just notice what I didn't get done. I didn't see my mom or my dad and step-mom or any of my friends today either. And nothing I said to any of them on the phone would leave them the impression that there was something to be proud about. I guess that would leave me. Some times you just have a day. Not a fantastic one, where you can recognize yourself as a supermom and not a horrible day where you think you should resign your position as chief care-giver, 'cause mom is too much a compliment for your efforts, or lack thereof. I took care of all of their basic necessities and did chores around the house. I gave them love in the form of kisses and hugs, books and games like peek-a-boo. I even got them to sleep at a reasonable hour and had some time on the computer before my show at 10:00 p.m. (Okay, it was Lipstick Jungle.) I had their car seats checked by the professional car-seat installer, and mainly because I do not want the responsibility of actually installing them, perfectly, myself. My husband just rolls his eyes at me, thinks I am neurotic. (Heaven forbid something happen to be because he cannot put the kids in their car seats properly.)

Funny, but the first thought I have is how someone would be proud of me in regard to the Me as in Mom. It is mostly who I am these days. I am with them just about every minute of the day, asleep and awake. For myself, me who is not mom, I recently went back to the gym. I exist better when I am exercising, mentally, physically, emotionally. I eat better which is key for weight loss as well. I have tried for 3 years to exercise at home and I just cannot do it. The way I like it: schedule, routine, separate. Doing exercise in the living room with two small children is like trying to make the bed at rush hour (see previous post). Step aerobics is stepping on a bench, not the small bodies of your offspring. Lifting weights for exercise should not be the continued removal of the baby from the DVD/VCR buttons. And yoga breathing is not taking calming breaths because you are trying not to blow your stack because your toddler wants to lie under the mat. Plank is hard enough with the weight of my own body, never mind the enthusiasm with which they think it is time to play bus stop. And I don't want to be interrupted. LOL ~ That comes from the lady who doesn't even get to poop without interruption. (Why was a sliding door without a locking latch installed as the door to my toilet? It should be more along the lines of a castle draw bridge surrounded by a moat and a grumpy dragon. Maybe I'll design that into my next house.) I keep hoping that Pavlov's Theory will kick in some time here soon. How many times does my daughter have to open the door and say "Mommy, it smells stinky in here." And I say, "No shit, Sherlock." Okay, no I don't actually say that. It's more along the lines of: "Well then, don't open the door." And "I'll be out in a minute, sweetheart." The baby is impervious to it, as they all must be at that age since so often they are worthy of hazmat suits themselves. He just wants to rip small pieces of toilet paper off the roll and put them in the toilet.... while I am still sitting there.

(sigh)

Not all of my blogs will be about poop. Only some of them.

At the end of every day I kinda weigh it in my head, take stock of how it went. And I usually can find lots of stuff that I could have handled differently and better. But I get some true beautiful moments when my daughter will say something touching and kind. Or when my son will give me a pat on the arm and the "mmmm" noise for asking or giving a kiss. I can confirm that I do model positive behaviors and that what I am doing is so worth it. But it is also nice to have some time to yourself to think about this stuff. And to not think about it at all.

Sometimes being a mom is like holding your breath under water. Every once in a while you have to stick your head up for air, the air being a MOMent for your self.