Moms

Mom Uninterrupted

I escaped to write.  This is where I can be found when my busy brain and I sneak an uninterrupted moment.  As I type seated in what was our quiet dungeon-like little home office, my dear hubby has entered the room and is now seated on the floor playing his new banjo (he likes toys), our 7-year old has left his bed due to said resonating banjo being too loud and as a result he is now getting an impromptu banjo lesson when he should be asleep, a tucked in 5-year old is performing a show tune in the distance most likely with the puppet creatively fashioned out of a cup and a skewer that she demanded I tuck in beside her, and a cranky teething baby we're too soft-hearted to Ferberize is imitating a Navy Seal as he crawls around the room threatening to push the power button on my PC with his curious chubby little pointer finger. 

Whew!  That was one run-on to be proud of (such is my life - a big rambling, run-on).  Simply put - I am a mom.  It's my #1 job, and my kids are my life.  I am so thankful for them and the never ending excitement and challenging curve balls they throw my way.

This clearly is not an "uninterrupted" moment, perhaps I will find one tomorrow.  Until then, duty calls.  The brood needs tending to, and a deserved hour of mindless TV fluff with dear hubby awaits me before hitting the hay after yet another a long, rambling, run-on day.

Okay, here I sit again.  It's exactly twelve hours later.  I gained six hours of sleep that was not uninterrupted.  At 4:00 a.m. I failed to instate the Ferber Method once again.  I made a bottle in the dark and fed my little chunky monkey that woke me up with his hungry cry as dear hubby sawed some major redwood logs.  I then snuck peeks at my other two sleeping monkeys for the second time since they had laid their pretty little wild monkey heads to rest.  

This is my favorite time of day - the time when I really take an uninterrupted moment to just stare in awe at what my dear hubby and I somehow managed to create.  For all of their inherited quirks, our kids are pretty darn perfect and downright angelic as they sleep.  These uninterrupted moments are what fill me with the energy and the patience required to get through the hectic days of being a parent and wife - juggling schedules, changing diapers, attempting working part-time, pseudo cleaning, refereeing, summer "teaching," cooking (& burning) food my family may deem “gross,” cleaning some more, etc.  All the while I am supposed to be taking care of myself by pretending to be a gym rat wielding my dusty gym membership card.

How serendipitous - once again I was interrupted.  This time it was by a text from a fellow rambling mommy asking me to please bring her a bottle of water as she must have accidentally put hers in her daughter's lunch as she scooted her off to dance camp along with my little girlie this morning.  I am supposed to meet this mommy friend at the gym for - get this- "Interval Training."  I can't even properly prioritize in an effort to maintain my own intervals  so as to accomplish tasks within the confines of my own home - how am I supposed to use intervals to train my body to be rid of its spare tire publicly or find the time to do so?  Naturally I am late...

I'm back…again.  So I sighed a little, took another break from writing, donned my gym rat attire, woke my smallest sidekick from his morning nap, and managed to gain the gusto to attend the dreaded class.  En route I received a text from my mommy friend that the number of children in the nursery was approaching maximum capacity.  Oh, no!  I have to smile a little as I hear evil laughter from the horned guy on my shoulder quipping, "No gym for you!  I order you to lounge poolside with your baby and snacks.  You deserve to sweat in the sun not in a gym with all of those mirrors & skinny minis."   And that is exactly what happened.  

At some point the winged and haloed figure on my other shoulder sang out something like, "You're a good parent.  There's no need to risk all of those tots trampling your baby while he sort of crawls on that grungy nursery floor.  After all, your mommy friend just told you the nursery worker was eating breakfast.  Would she leave her beloved yogurt to save your baby Seal from dirty Crocs and germy toys in his mouth?  Go sit by the pool."  Amen, wise little angel.  The pool visit was virtually drama free except for my 7-year old needing a bandage on one of his "nickels" (A.K.A. nipples), because it had a tiny scratch from the float he must have rode around the lazy river in nearly 40,001 times.  You bet I put Lanolin on that thing, bandaged it up, gave him a hug, and his nickel is fine now.

I returned from that pool outing momentarily refreshed, but another outing added more drama to my day.  Mommy friend and I bravely decided to take our troop out to lunch as a "special treat" after their morning of camp and what not.  I can tell you nothing about this lunch outing was “special,” and the only treat was the fried dough covered in powdered sugar that arrived on the buffet just in time for our dessert.  My seemingly feral children belched, climbed under the table, blew bubbles in their drinks, tickled their friends causing an accidental head bump and tears, fussed about the icky sauce, etc.  It really wasn't surprising to me that this behavior ensued.  Meanwhile the Seal was happily covered head to toe in Alfredo and broccoli.  That made for fun clean up and will make for some fun diaper changes later...

I realize that I am lucky to be savoring yet another brief uninterrupted moment as I sit here typing the remainder of this blog post.  I should be working or taking care of one of the many unattended chores at our home at the moment while my kids are momentarily entertained, but I am selfishly indulging in my free therapy - writing.  Besides I detest ironing, and the dust will only continue to win the battle, especially on that lousy gym membership card.

As the determined Scarlett O'Hara famously said:  "After all, tomorrow is another day."  I am so thankful that it will be.  I think back on today, and I know tomorrow won't be uninterrupted.  I am thankful for that, too.  For all of its cons this mom gig is full of more pros than anything else.  Parenting is absolutely the best gig out there.  Almost on cue, I hear the little guy waking up from his second nap (must be nice…).  I can't wait to get him out of that crib and smother him with mommy kisses.  I will ramble on again next week, dear reader.  Until then, enjoy as many uninterrupted moments as you can, but also take joy in those not so uninterrupted moments even the moments that fluster you the most as a parent.   Your kids are worth every uninterrupted second and then some.

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