I started my journey to motherhood on March 25, 2009 when I found out I was pregnant with my first child. I had so many emotions. I was 20 years old and set to marry my husband two months later. Fear was the largest feeling by far and large. As time went on, that began to fade into excitement. My sweet little boy was born in November and while I was battling some demons within myself, I was so in love. Being a mom was the most exhausting job I had ever taken on, but it was so worth it to watch this little human I had literally made from scratch inside my body, flourish and grow before my eyes. Shortly after he turned six, I found out I was carrying my second little boy. If I thought the first time around was a beautiful and humbling experience, it was nothing when I watched my seven year old son look at his newborn brother with such love and adoration.
With all that being said, I am by no means a perfect mother. I have no clout to give anyone advice on how to be a good parent because I am learning every single day how to do that myself. I falter every step of the way. I am sometimes short tempered and irritable. I don’t always have the energy or the want to sit on the floor for endless rounds of board games or Legos. But I try. Sometimes when I’m so bleary-eyed from being up at all hours with a 14 month old who still doesn’t want to sleep through the night, I want time to speed up so they are both in school and I have time to be an adult again. But in the very next moment both of my gorgeous boys sit on my lap and hug me so tight I want time to stop all together. So I want to say this to my kids: while you may think that I nag and harp and make you eat too many vegetables or don’t give you enough time to play video games, please know that everything I do, I do for you. I go without simple pleasures or time to sleep in because I am too busy molding you into men that are going to do great things in life. Men who are going to treat women well, and handle your business and do whatever it takes to be successful and happy in life.
In parting, the one piece of advice I feel qualified to give to every single parent out there is to cherish your children. Hold them close and enjoy every single sticky, messy kiss, every squeal of Glee, every tantrum and fit, and everything in between. Childhood is over before you know it and your kids are out in the real world and living their own lives and we, as parents have to take a backseat at that point to their new experiences. Soak it all up while you can so you have something to remember when they are grown.
It’s 8pm on a Sunday and I am bleary eyed and irritable. Never in my life have I been more excited to be woken up by my alarm in the morning because it means Spring Break is finally over. Let me preface this by saying that I love my seven year old child unconditionally. I would move mountains for that boy. He is the one that made me a mommy and I will be forever grateful. But damnit, I’m exhausted. I’ve been a mother of two now for a little over a year and I know it’s work having both of my kids, but I forget just how much work when I don’t have a seven hour school day to break up the chaos that only two little boys can bring. When my kids are together for extended periods of time, they just feed off each other’s insanity whilst simultaneously leeching every ounce of energy my poor body possesses. And dear god the sheer amount of food my 50lb bean pole can stuff in his skinny little tummy is astounding. I really thought other moms of the world were exaggerating when they said their boys ate them out of house and home. They are literally human garbage disposals that feed off of goldfish and pizza rolls.
I tried to be proactive this year and did some research on activities to do in the home to entertain my son while on his break from school. They all include a shit ton of glitter, slime, or uncooked pasta. Wanna guess who was interested in any of that shit? Not my kid. Instead I was met with, “okay, mom, obligatory craft time is over, can I go play Ghost Recon now? Or watch other children play with toys on YouTube?” Fine. But that only occupies him for an hour. When I tell him screen time is over and he has to amuse himself with his collection of toys that would put Toys R Us to shame, I’m met with deep gutteral sighs and massive amounts of eye rollings. When did kids stop liking toys? Insert cliche statement here: when I was his age I played outside until the street lights came on and only had a rusty can and some string to play with; tetanus was just a happy bonus! So I would get down on the floor with him and his various action figures and army men and listen to him tell me for 20 minutes that I’m playing “wrong” until I finally get so frustrated I want to chuck Darth Vader across the room. This has been my life on an endless loop for the last week. Not to mention caring for the 14 month old who must investigate everything myself or his brother is doing and cry if I’m not within a five foot radius of him. It’s been a real special time.
Do you want to know what has gotten me through this trying time? Gin. I whole heartedly recommend my method of therapy for all you mom’s out there who have just had enough at the end of the day. And if nothing else it makes clean up time after the kids are in bed much more enjoyable.
I am 100% certain that if you are reading this and you have kids, you have at least one tale of your kids pooping or vomiting in such a way that it is memorable. If you have children and this hasn’t happened to you, rest assured, it totally will!
Location location location
My 7 y/o didn’t have too many instances where he painted with poop like the typical child. What was different about him, was where he would poop. When we lived in California, we lived on base. Their housing is basically like big housing developments with condos squished together. In our row we had four condos, behind us was a big parking area and then another row of four condos. We were very close with our neighbors and we used to hang out constantly in our garage. One day we were having a get together and our son was running around doing his thing. He reappeared a few minutes later and proceeded to tell us that he pooped in our neighbor’s yard (he was three at the time). All of us were pretty flabbergasted and didn’t believe him until we collectively walked to her side yard and found that he did, in fact, take a steamy one in her yard. This action was repeated at my in-laws house this year (at age seven), he said that’s what Marines do. I guess old habits die hard! He has also pooped in a bathroom trash can, a laundry basket, and the back of his closet. It is stressful in the moment, but absolutely hilarious when we look back on it.