Things I Don't Need to Know About in the Middle of the Night

I've been a mother for 14 years.  Which means, I haven't had an entire night's sleep for 14 years.

I'm super tired.  All the time.

Last night I had a child wake me up at 1:00 AM to tell me one of the brackets from his braces came off.
I'm not kidding.

This morning in my groggy stupor, while preparing breakfast and lunches, I started thinking, maybe I haven't been clear on what I don't want to know.  Things that could wait until morning.  Things not worth waking mommy up for.

So, I started to make a list.  This is how far I got:

1. Anything that has to do with your braces
2. The cat is throwing/threw up
3. You can't sleep
4. Somebody is snoring
5. There is a spider in the hallway
6. I don't feel good- cough, sore throat, headache
7. The music in _____ room is too loud
8. I think I hear someone in the house (While for many this would be a reason to wake mommy up, we have big dogs that will definitely let us know if someone is in the house.)
9. I had a bad dream

Then I realized that there are a lot of reasons to not wake me up.  Maybe I should focus on reasons to wake mommy, or preferably, daddy up in the middle of the night.

1.I don't feel good- I'm going to throw up
2. The house is on FIRE!

I'm pretty sure that covers it.

This One Time at Old Navy

All the mannequins were naked.
At least way too many of them were naked. And the ones who were dressed had their zippers undone and open. 

This isn't really a problem when you are in a store, like, say, Victoria's Secret. All of those mannequins are mostly naked anyway.  You don't go to Victoria's Secret to buy clothes.  You go to Victoria's Secret to buy things to wear under you clothes.

But Old Navy is a family store. The entire family, from infant to grandma, and they are pretty proud of that.  So, you would think they would keep their "people" dressed.  

This isn't the only example.  There were several mannequins which were undressed.  And by several I mean at least three and they were all female.  All of them. 

And isn't it strange that in the line up of mannequins the middle one is naked?  Front and center, not even wearing shoes.

I don't think I'm make too big of a deal about these mannequins.  Clearly, Old Navy is sending a message. 
I'm pretty sure that message is: you don't need to wear clothes, especially ours.

Summertime

It's been a long time since I've written anything.  It's not that I am lacking for material, I am not.  It's because it's summer and I've been incredibly busy being a mom.

And not the "fun" summer mom.  I'm definitely more of the, "If you don't clean your room and get your schoolwork done, then you aren't going anywhere today" mom.  Except that my kids are more of the, "But it's only 10 AM and we haven't had breakfast yet and I can't find any of my clothes because they are all over the backyard" kind of kids.

Oh, and also, I have a teenage daughter.

The kind of daughter who is all, " I really hate living here.  I hate my life.  I wish I had a different life."  Followed quickly by, "Can you take _____ and me to the mall?" and "Could I have my allowance?"

And the middle boy, who for whatever reason, is the only one I signed up for summer activities.  He needs to be somewhere different everyday. 

And the youngest, the one with all the acronyms, he prefers to spend his days watching Sharknado.  He also has dug a hole so deep in the backyard that we had to put construction cones around it.  The dirt has gone to create several different habitats, including the "End of the Dinosaurs" and "Global Warming on Hoth".  (His names).

So between the emotional upheaval of being thirteen, the business of camps, and making sure that nobody breaks a leg in our backyard, I've had no time to write. 

Which is fine, because I can't imagine missing any of this.

What I Really Want to do on Mother's Day

Before I even start writing I should be clear, I love my kids.  I really, really, love them. Truly.
I just don't want to spend Mother's Day with them. 

Mother's Day isn't about me, it's about my mom and my grandmother, who at 94 is still fabulous.  It's about both my hubby's mother and step-mother, because, well, they raised him and he's pretty fabulous.

The fact that I have children doesn't matter.  My siblings (all childless) call me (because I'm the oldest) and ask, "What are we doing for Mom for Mother's Day?"

A few years ago I just decided I wasn't going to plan anything.  I mean, I'm a mom too.  And when I would ask my mom what she wanted to do, she always responded, "Oh, I don't really care.  Whatever you children plan is fine with me."

Because she thought her other children were in on the planning.

So that year, since I didn't plan anything, hubby didn't plan anything either. He thought I was planning my own Mother's Day event.  We ended up at Red Robin.  Yep, Red Robin.  With all of the other fathers who didn't plan ahead.  Nice.  We waited over an hour to eat all while crowded into a tiny booth and listening to screaming children.

I could have had this experience at home, for free.

And while I was sitting at that sticky table, wiping ketchup off one child and manhandling a second so he wouldn't crawl under the table, I thought to myself, "Hmmm, hubby goes golfing on Father's Day."

Wait a minute!

Hubby leaves his darling children on Father's Day to golf.

All. Day. Long. 

Nobody thinks daddy should be home or at a really loud family friendly restaurant.  Everyone is fine with daddy being gone for the day, because they are use to daddy being gone for the day. At work. 

So, this Mother's Day I want to leave my darling children all day.  I want to shop to my heart's content, see a movie, have lunch with a friend, or, maybe my own mom.  I want to come home late at night, after the children are asleep.  I want to come home to a tidy house, where the dishwasher is running, the clothes are folded and put away, and the stairs have been vacuumed. 

This would be the best Mother's Day gift. Ever.

Happy Mother's Day to our Birth Moms!

Today is National Birth Mother's Day.

Because I have five adopted children this is an important day for our family, but I think we should all take a moment and reflect on the choices that these brave women have made.

Adoption isn't a decision a Birth Mother comes to overnight.  It is a long process, beginning with her choosing to give birth to this child instead of abortion.  (This is an entirely different blog post, but it needed to be said.)  Birth Mom's are choosing life for their unborn child even though they themselves are in turmoil over what their own future holds.

When a birth mother chooses to place her child for adoption, she is putting the welfare of that child above herself.  It is the ultimate sacrifice.  Nine months of carrying and caring for an unborn baby while wondering about the life she desires for her child.  She has hopes and dreams for her unborn baby, just like any mother does.  At some point she decided that she isn't going to be able to care/provide for this baby the way she wants. She wants more for this baby than she is prepared or able to give at this time in her life and she makes the decision to place the baby for adoption.

Wow! 
Is there a better example of complete and unselfish love? 
I think of the sacrifice when Jesus gave his life on the cross for each of us.  He gave his life.  He died in the most painful way, so we could have eternal life.

Birth mothers sacrifice themselves for nine months and then go through the painful process of giving birth, only to place their child/baby with a family that they are completely trusting to give that child a better life. 

What an honor for my children to be loved like that.  What an honor that I was entrusted with these children by their birth mothers. 

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to all birth moms.  Your example of unselfish love is the foundation for my child's life.

Pinterest or Into the Mind of a Teenage Girl

Ahh, Pinterest, just what has been missing from my life.

Here's the great thing about Pinterest: it shows you how much better your life could be, what you could be making for breakfast, lunch and dinner, how to lose all that baby weight, the perfect pair of shoes, the perfect dress, how to have the perfect child, and also really funny quotes.

Seriously. Pinterest does all of that.

What I personally appreciate the most about Pinterest, besides all of the above, is that I know what my teenage daughter is thinking about.  And it's not all about boys!

This is no small feat.  Teenage girls are not exactly an open book, and this glimpse into her daily thoughts is delightful.

She has suddenly become interested in fashion, (she won't admit this) but it is really exciting for me.  I know that this is true because of Pinterest.  She loves pretty clothes!  And jewelry!  And shoes!

She is also a huge geek, which I also love.  She pins Star Wars and comic books stuff, only Marvel, not DC (she doesn't like DC).  She pins lyrics to songs she likes and I know what she is listening to.  She pins all kinds of cute animal photos, dance photos, and pointe shoes. She pins all kinds of things about girlfriends and nothing about boys except pictures of One Direction.  This makes me happy and relieved.

She also pins about her faith.This shows me that we have done a good job and she is proud of her relationship with her Heavenly Father.  And this makes me the happiest of all.

French Model Doctor, Take 2

Yes, THE French Model Doctor (FMD).  I had another visit with him.   

I hurt my ribs.  I'm not really sure what I did to bruise my rib, but I think I can trace it back to date night when we were out with friends.  There was a story that involved a very large horse and a lot of laughing.  Pretty sure it was all the laughing because I remember a sudden pain in my side, that didn't go away.  And then, that night, I couldn't sleep because of the pain.  Next morning, excruciating pain whenever I moved or breathed.

I suffered through.  Poor me.  Actually, I thought it was just indegestion and would go away.  But it didn't.  And it got worse.  So I called in on Monday and was able to get in and see a different doctor.  Not FMD, but a kind doctor, who gently felt around my ribs and was fairly sure I had bruised or maybe cracked a rib so she ordered an x-ray. She told me to take large doses of ibuprofen and rest and it would heal.  It would take lots of time to heal, but if the pain was worse to come back.

I spent the next day on the couch watching Jason Statham movies.  Very relaxing.

Next morning, excruciating pain.  Excruciating.  I am suppose to be feeling better, not getting worse.
I called in and the only appointment I could get was with the French Model Doctor.

Great.

Now he is going to think I am completely crazy. 

The appointment starts with him saying, "Oh, it's good to see you again.  Where is your mom?  You didn't bring her this time?"

Again, great. I must have made an impression.

He asked how I was and what was going on.  I told him about the rib and how painful it was and how it wasn't getting better. He wanted to know how it happened and if I was resting.  I told him the horse story and about the Jason Statham movie marathon.

That led to a recitation of Statham movies and which ones are good. You know, Crank is really horrible, but The Transporter is the best movie ever.

Then he needed to feel the rib area.  The FMD is not so gentle. As he is feeling around and I am saying ow, ow, ow, he asks, "Have you been dreaming about dragons chasing you?"

Seriously.  I am not kidding. Dragons.

My first thought was, what the heck. And then I thought, he must watch Game of Thrones. He must think I look like Daenerys.  But I don't look anything like her, so I just looked at him really strangely and said, "No, I don't, OW, usually, OW, dream about dragons, OW, chasing me."

Then he asked what I was taking for the pain, and I told him lots of ibuprofen and he said, that's good.  Then he had to listen to my heart, because last time I saw him it was because I was having chest pains.  So, I asked him to change my medication dosage back to the original (the one that helps with my anxiety, see previous post). 

FMD-"Are you still having chest pain?"
Me- "No"
FMD- "Then it's working."
Me- "No, I never took the new dosage."
FMD- "What do you mean?"
Me- "I never took the new dosage because I didn't want to and I need it changed back to the original dosage."
FMD-"So you never took it?"
Me- "No."
FMD *sigh*
Me-"I get that a lot."

End of appointment.