Momsanity

A look into the life of a young mom, just trying to make her way with two kids, a husband, a dog, and a cat in-tow.

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MY transition to a school ager.

Well, it’s been the first full week of my oldest in school. She has transitioned AMAZINGLY to say the least. She tells me she hasn’t learned anything in school, yet spends the next three hours singing a new song I have never heard before. She comes home telling me they earned a Pom-Pom. Which is what they earn when they get compliments about how well they were behaved in the hallway, or during story time, or on the play ground.

I however, have been doing, AMAZING AS WELL.

I feel like a new woman!

I have attended TWO, I repeat, TWO story times in a row at the library. My house is cleaner than before! I’ve seen my kitchen counter more in the past week than I have in the past year. I even had a lunch date with a fellow mom friend. Ahhh. My life is amazing right now. I’ve picked up a quilting job as well. So I’ve been working on a T-shirt quilt too. I’m even sending out a crochet job today that I recently finished.

So mom, if you feel in a rut, just wait for school. Game. Changer.

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A bed time story with daddy can be a little rare in this house. He’s a railroader.

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Another admiration post.

So I guess I’ll just go ahead with it. This post is about patience. The lady I’m writing about is a teacher. Not just a regular teacher, a middle school teacher. Seriously. Who wants to do that?! Well, I almost did. But I must say I have found since becoming a mother, I do not have the required patience to be a teacher.

But this woman, she has a two (almost three) year old and a one year old. Seriously. I would kill for her patience. I’ve never seen her yell at them. I have never seen her get mad at them. I’ve seen her ask multiple times, as she patiently waits to get her toddler’s attention. I’m not that patient. Trash bag comes out and toys on the floor go out the door. Then my kids listen. It’s not pretty. I mean I just yelled at my kid while writing this. Gahhhh. I often wonder if I had more patience, more often, if my kids would listen. I have some patience, as some days I kill the mom game. But not often enough to be on the same page as her. I have to admit. I’m a little jealous. Not enough to hate her. Just enough to motivate me to be a little more patient. As I yell as my kid to find her patience.

I recently told her I looked up to her. She told me I was crazy. I hope it made her day.

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Admiration.

It’s funny what people have made a lasting impression on me and why. I moved so much as a child I’ve often wondered who I made an impression on and who remembers me. But since I can’t speak to that I won’t. I will speak to who I remember and admire and why.

I’ll start with a girl named KC. I was in college, her as well. We were coworkers at OfficeMax before they closed their doors. She was a short skinny girl, with long straight black hair. And a face with round cheeks. I am still friends with her on Facebook. She never complained. She honestly never complained. Not about her home life. Not about her work schedule. Not about the asshole customer. Not about her boyfriend. Not about anything. She never complained. When we would talk, as coworkers do, she had plenty to talk about. But she never complained. I can’t say that enough times to get the point across. I’m sure she had plenty to complain about. As most of us do. But she didn’t. I can’t tell you how many times I think of her, and the respect I had and have for her. She was younger than me by a few years. So it may seem odd to a person too proud to have respect for someone younger. (And yes, sometimes I can be too proud. I’m human after all). But the respect I have for her, that she may never know about, is immense. I’m sure she was raised that way, to not complain. But I think it says more about the world that I actually noticed it. I noticed when she didn’t participate in something so commonplace. KC, you will always be someone I admire and try to emulate.

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My husband wanted my hair to be a bit more bold than I normally dye. I think it’s a little more red than he bargained for. Certainly more than I was prepared for. Hello to makeup every time I go out. Now I HAVE to restring my pearls.

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I have transitioned my last baby to the crib. He is out if the cradle and out of our room. 😖😢😭

I was so sad. He spent a night or two in the crib, then we went away for the weekend so he slept right next to me in the camper. I snuggled him. My heart was happy. If we hadn’t gone away, I would not have been ok with moving him. I would not have gotten in that last snuggle. The last night. He would have gotten just a little older all on his own. I don’t think I would have been ok.

He still wakes up once a night to eat. Which I was so glad he was sleeping all night when he was in my room. But now I’m so glad he wakes up. Last night after he fell asleep I even watched him sleep as I rocked in the rocking chair. I’m not that kinda mom. At least I wasn’t before. I guess I am now. It heartbreaking to see my little boy grow. I am not this way with the girls. When they are ready to move out, I will pack their shit and deliver it! (Just kidding.) Maybe it’s different because I KNOW he is our last one. That happens when ya tie your tubes. Maybe it’s different because he’s a boy. Maybe because he’s the youngest. Maybe because I am different this time. Because I know what’s coming. (At least until the age of four). Because I have a guide of how he will grow. Of what he will need to accomplish. Because I won’t be able to do it over again. Because once he gets older, I won’t be starting over.

I don’t know why it’s different. I don’t know why I’m different. It just is.

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Kids: can we watch a movie?

Me: no.

Me to self: I’m gonna be a good mom today.

K: can we watch a movie?

M: I said no.

M: fine.

K: yay!

Ten minutes later. Children are no where to be found. Most likely outside in the yard while I watch tv with the baby.

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I’ve been away this weekend. I love going away, but I hate it. You always come back to a dirtier house than you left. Even though no one was home. Ugh. I also got out of the habit of harvesting the raspberries. But the season is almost over anyway. And it was such a busy weekend, I went to bed yesterday with a fever. Luckily that is all it has been. So, my house is a mess and toys are almost everywhere but the girls are playing quietly so I can’t complain. Because as a mom, we’ll as a human, you have to pick your battles. I’m be able to clean tomorrow or the next day. The girls will pick up the blocks in a bit when I ask, and I’ll be able to vacuum. And I’ll sit miserably, unable to take a nap. Because I can’t take naps, and because I have toddlers.

Please think of me today. Any day that you are sick as a mom, is a day of momsanity.

[relatablepoetryandquotes]

via @extramadness

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I’m becoming more obsessed with living off the land and growing what I can and using the world around me. I’ve always liked that over buying, but seriously. More obsessed.

We have raspberry bushes growing wild in the field behind the house. Every day, the girls and I go out and pick the berries. I wash them. I put them in the freezer. But what am I to do with frozen raspberries? I wanted to do something besides just eat our daily haul. I made sorbet. Ah-ma-zing. I made simple syrup, added lemon juice, and added frozen berries. I got the recipe online, but seriously who needs to read that more than once. Throw it in a blender and cool off!

Grow and make your own food. It’s the best.

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Nothing like fresh lawnmower lines in the grass.

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Homemade coffee creamer

Seriously. Make it. Here’s the recipe.

1 can sweetened condensed milk

Milk (Somewhere around 2 cups normally)

Brown sugar (about a cup or less)

Vanilla

Water

Heat the brown sugar with a tiny bit water and vanilla. Like 1 teaspoon water 2 teaspoons vanilla.

I added some half and half too. To help thin the caramel out since I was mixing it in and didn’t want globs in my creamer.

Pour one can SCM into a mason jar.

Add caramel once it cools just a little.

Fill with milk.

Shake.

If you like it not as sweet use a bigger mason jar and add more milk.

Use at least a quart jar.

Seriously. Mind blown.

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Husbands just gum up the gears sometimes.

You know it’s true. I love him very much. But oh boy can he get in the way.

I’ve been watching my best friends kids. I’ve been Aunt Manda for a week. ❤️❤️ So that brings my current residency under 8 to six kids. (Luckily they go home at night. Mom had knee surgery and dad does drop off and pick up.)

Two days ago, hubby was home. It was a sunny day so we all played outside and had hotdogs on the grill for lunch. The next day was a rainy day. Hubby had gone to work. (He works on the railroad, all the live long day.) We were all stuck inside. Guess what. My day was a million times better!!! We did a craft, colored, watched a movie and then drew space ships. They played dress up. And I cleaned the girls room. Like cleaned it. Like I can see the floor cleaned it. I even vacuumed. I had six kids in the house and that happened. Because hubby wasn’t here. He does help me, but he is much better at helping when it’s only us home. So if you think you have much better days when hubby is gone, feat not. You are not alone. My mom has always said the same thing. We always had better flowing days when dad was gone.

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I deleted Facebook.

Ok, so I didn’t delete my account. I didn’t even suspend it. It’s still there. I deleted the app from my tablet though. Gone. No ragrets. (#idiocracyreference). Seriously. I am spending less time scrolling mindlessly it of habit. And more time reading just one more book to my kids. It’s not filling my empty spaces of time. Ok. So I might be blogging more, I need some way to talk about me. Because we are all a little narcissistic in today’s society. But I am spending more time on Pinterest, and then ACTUALLY DOING THE ACTIVITY OR COOKING THE RECIPE. I made my own coffee creamer. I am going to make my own caramel for it after I finish this post. I made an obstacle course for the kiddos in the hall way. We did coffee filter crafts. We picked flowers. We ran around in the rain. (I actually did run around in the pouring rain with my toddlers. It was amazing.) I love Facebook. It lets me easily share pictures with my grandparents who live ten states away. It lets me see their beautiful flowers and the gators that make their way into the lawn. I can send pictures to my best friend when I am watching her kids for the day. There are so many amazing things. It lets us communicate. But lately the words on my feed were getting too negative. I recommend taking a break if it’s something you can do. Just delet the app. You can always re add it. But you can’t run around in the rain after the sun pops back out of the clouds.

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The result of six kids, only three of which belong to me. When your best friend has knee surgery, you take her kids for her. The baby is mine. The girl on the couch is close enough. “Aunt Manda” are the sweetest words some days. They will leave, and I will clean what they didn’t. And they will be back. And we’ll do it all over again. And for five days, this house will be full. Full of heart. Full of noise. Full of mess. Yes, it’s not all their mess. But they will remember these days. Meanwhile I’m looking forward to forgetting this week. But I’ll have the love.

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A letter to my girls.

Recently, it has come to my attention, how childish the world can be. When the day comes for you two to read this, I doubt I will remember the circumstances that led me to write this, it the lesson will always be the same.

I unknowingly suffered from post partum depression after E was born. I knew I wasn’t right but I was okay enough to keep the world and it’s questions at bay. And anyone who did know my struggles, didn’t say a word to me.

It’s now over two years later, your brother is here! I am better, I am normal. And I love all three of you whole heartedly. It took a long time to come to terms with it, even after I got better.

When I did come to terms, and admit, I was made to feel like I didn’t have any post partum problems. And if I did have them, I was using it as an excuse. I was not. I do not like to make excuses. And I hope you never have any issues post partum. But this brings me to my point.

When you girls grow up, you will have the world at your fingertips. Because Daddy and I will have made you strong and taught you when and how to use your strong wills. With all the power comes great responsibility. Always think of those around you. (There will be times when it will be simply to think of what karma has in store for them.). But I always want you to think of others. Think about your ACTIONS and your WORDS. They carry much weight and you will have to take responsibility for them.

This doesn’t mean you must always be delicate with those around you. It only means you should be kind, caring, and compassionate. It means not having a nasty soul. It means being an example to others on how to treat fellow human beings.

Trust me, you will not like everyone you meet, I certainly haven’t. But by treating them like the same human you are someone who makes mistakes, it reflects a much brighter light in your character. You will be able to close your eyes at night with a calm soul. You will be able to walk a little taller. And you will be able to smile, even when the sun isn’t shining.

I want the best for you girls. And I want you to know you will affect other people around you. We are all connected on this earth.

“Tact is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip.”

Sometimes you will say and do mean things, but do it nicely.

Love, Mommy.

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I’m back.

In the middle of the craziness that is my life, I’m back. I deleted the facebook app, because drama. So maybe I’ll actually be able to work on this crazy blog detailing my crazy life.