Suck it Up You Whiners!

I'm pretty sure I'm going to upset some people with this post but quite honestly I really am not too terribly concerned.

Apparently I missed the announce ment that this is "Poor Mom" media week. It started with Oprah and her show on Monday. I didn't see it but a friend was texting me all the nitty gritty. Apparently it was the secret life of moms and the challenges mom's face. Then the Today show got on the bandwagon with ways mom's can take care of themselves and the relationship with husbands and wives.

Here's my stance. Unless you are the mother of special needs children, your job isn't really any harder than any other job on the planet. You just have issues with work ethic and prioritizing.

Did I just hear a collective rising of blood pressures? Wow! That was cool! I guess I should explain myself.

We don't have it any harder than any other mothers in history. They had to work farms, handwash clothing, bake their own bread and other food stuffs, store their own food and love, bathe and feed children. In other words they had full time jobs and were mothers. They didn't have the luxury of tossing a load in the washer, starting the dishwasher and and then posting a blog while clothes and dishes were getting clean.

They didn't have the luxury of starting a movie in another room so that they could run the vacuum without children pulling the plug out of the wall. Oh wait! They didn't have power much less a vacuum.

No, they didn't have soccer practice and gymnastics and playdates and doctor's appointments and mothers morning out. They lived a pretty solitary life unless you count the trip to church every Sunday.

So here's my deal. If I have an issue with how "hard" my job is, maybe I need to sit back and look at what I'm really doing. For example, right now I'm supposed to be upstairs shampooing my livingroom carpets. I'm on the computer. Is that my job or am I allowing my priorities to twist in the wind of selfish endeavors?

I just took 15 minutes and actively coached/helped my children clean the playroom. I hate the playroom but if I expect my children to learn to clean on their own shouldn't I model it for them? Instead of pointing and saying "do it" and then whining about them not working, maybe I should take an active supervisory role.

We fuss and whine that we just have too much to do all the time. Ever think about committing to a little less? We complain that we have to work and clean and cook and still have time for parenting. Have we turned off the TV? Have we given our children chores of their own? Have we asked for help?

I think sometimes we over commit and let things slide so that we can blame our children and husbands for not helping. We want to be martyrs. We want to lament our position because we don't want to resolve it and tough up. And don't get me started on asking for help. We don't ask for help because we have set the standard so high that no one else can do it "right." Just one more way to make ourselves martyrs.

Motherhood is no harder than any other job. You have expectations imposed on you. The difference in motherhood is we are self employed. That means we are setting our own expectations.

Here is what I want to achieve in my position as a mother and wife.

I want my children to learn how to be responsible for themselves, their actions and their future.
I want my house to be clean.
I want to make sure that my marriage lasts and is full of love and fun.
I want my children to learn that love, friendship and the intangibles are more important than any "stuff" they can ever accumulate.

How hard is that? It looks like I have great job security and a lot of opportunity to have a huge impact. I just have to prioritize.

Normal is...

Mama Kat does a writer's workshop every week and I've been watching some of the writing prompts that have come up from time to time. I couldn't pass one of today's prompts up. "Normal is..." I have to go with "relative" for this one. Normal is relative. Oh yeah!


Normal at my house is waking up somewhere completely different from where you went to sleep wearing something completely different. I fell asleep in the Orangutan-Marmoset exhibit last night (Marmie isn't having such a great transition) and woke up half an hour later on the chaise in the living room. I woke up 3 hours later to Orangutan and Marmie climbing into my bed with me and have no recollection of taking off my sweatshirt, taking out my contacts or even going into my room and clearing the bed which I know was covered with laundry.


Other people go to bed and wake up in the same bed and in the same clothes they went to sleep in. Not sure how they do it but it must not involve children.


Normal in my house is six meals a day. Breakfast, mid morning snack, lunch, mid afternoon snack, small exhibit dinner and large exhibit dinner. And before you tell me that you don't count the snacks as meals you don't know the preparation that goes into peanut butter saltines. Marmie insists that she must have silverware for every meal no matter what it is so it counts as a meal.


Other homes probably don't even have to use bowls for their snacks and therefore can legitimately discount them from being meals. That's not our normal.


Normal at my house is doing AT LEAST one load of laundry a day. I'm lucky if I escape doing two or three. Inevitably as soon as I even think, "Whew! Caught up! Yay!" someone has taken it upon themselves to spill a sippy, poop, pee, barf or draw on something not intended for any of the above. Thus creating another load.


Other homes can probably knock the laundry out in a day on the weekend and not even have to glance in the direction of the hamper until the following week.


Normal at my house is answering the phone and then proceeding to have four conversations at the same time. One with the person who called; one with Rang Tang; one with Rhino; and one with Marmie. None of them will be talking about the same thing. It's a good thing that most of the people who call me share my version of normal and therefore are very understanding (if they aren't having multiple conversations themselves).


Other people answer the phone, have their conversation with the person on the other end and hang up. I bet they even stay on the same train of thought while they are on the phone.


Now I am sure that several of you share the same normal I do but I thought you should know that other people think our life is not normal. Weirdos!

The Great Switch-a-Room: Day 2 Part 1

Someday I'll be on the Other End.

One of these days I am going to be on my sister's end of the phone during one of these conversations. (She's in red.)

Ouch! Ouch, ouch ouch!! No you can't have another snack! Ouch! You just ate an entire bag of marshmallows and washed it down with another blue cupcake.

Ummm, ok?

I hate wearing shoes. I just tripped coming up the stairs and jammed my wrist trying to get your call. And now I've stepped in dog poo. Has anyone seen my camera? But considering the poo I'm glad I have shoes on right now.

(beginning of giggles)

Please don't touch that! At least until I get a picture. And watch out for dog poo! So how was your day? Oh and yes I did get the e-mail but I think that question might be left over from lunch. And knowing me I already anwered it. I said LOOK OUT FOR THE POOP! Don't eat that!

(hysterical laughter) Yes you answered the question. (followed by more hysterical laughter)

And now I think I know your answer to my humor hunting at The Bowl. When you are looking for laughter you pretty much just call me, right? By the way, I didn't even have pants on this morning when I got your first e-mail about the inside out pants but I'm pretty sure my bra might be on backwards so that makes for about the same day.

Why do you have your brother's shoes on? I can't believe more people didn't know this was a daffodil! Please don't stomp the flowers.

Have I told you that you make my life seem normal?

Don't rub it in!

Love you!

Love you too. WATCH OUT FOR THE...I gotta go.

(hysterical laught.. "click")

Mom Tip #59: Silence is NOT Golden!

It is golden, coated in platinum, studded with diamonds and dipped in chocolate!

Someone asked the question a while back "What do you wish someone had told you before you became a mom?" I wish they would have told me that there would never be a quiet moment ever again. I would have stopped talking and just sat and listened to silence and memorized what it sounds like.

We just got back from taking our bachelor neighbor to the train to go to the airport. Understand that this is not the first time Neighbor has ridden in the livestock trailer but it is the first time he has done this long of a stretch. Something tells me he won't be volunteering for carpool duty anytime soon.

Marmoset started the whole ride with, "C'mon R! C'mon!" That would be my fault. When I'm ready to go somewhere and the exhibits are loaded I want everyone in and moving out of the garage.

Then Rhino started to tell us a story about a "Heycocter (helicopter)" that was delivering wood to our house for a doghouse for the dog. The dog only weighs 20 lbs. I'm wondering just what kind of house he is building that calls for a helicopter to deliver the wood! I might move in with the dog.

Then we snagged the Orangutan and got the run down of her day for another 15 minutes. Then Orangutan and Rhino took turns playing "repeat after me" with Marmoset under the guise of "teaching her how to talk." Trust me! She doesn't need any lessons!

By the time we got to the train station Neighbor was so ready to get out of the van that he had his door open before I stopped. No one has ever been seen fleeing from my vehicle before. I wish I would have had the video camera. Large male with over stuffed garment back and carry on duffel seen fleeing minivan with his hands over his ears screaming , "Make it stop!!" He might have been crying but his face was a bit of a blur so I can't be sure about it.

As if I hadn't had enough I decided that a trip to the grocery store was necessary. And of course got commentary on why every sweet and salty anything was a good idea for snack today. I think the bag boy who helped us out to the car may have had the same face as Neighbor but again, he was moving too fast to tell.

Even now as I sit here in my office (which adjoins the playroom) there is a cacophony of ruckus over who is eating who's snack and who wants to watch which cartoons. And before you mention how wonderful bedtime is, refer to Rhino's Sleeping Standoff. They aren't even quiet then!