Ask me how to strap a giant whale to my minivan and drive 1600 miles home with it! I'll tell you how. Ask me to define the word sharing. It's different than what you might expect. Ask me how to get your child to learn there's more to life than pb&j. Wait, don't ask me that. Ask me what it's like to have an autistic child. I'll try to help you understand. Ask me to show you my Mom of the Year award! Oops, usually I'm out of the running for that about 10 minutes after getting out of bed.
Yet, it's all good. Sure, the paycheck is lost in the mail but I still wouldn't trade this life, quirks and all. In my posts, I'm hoping you'll find humor and honesty and that you'll be able to relate to my humble acceptance of motherhood's ups, downs and in betweens.
Welcome to my world!
The Bleak Midwinter
Ryan, age 8, came to me earlier today and said, “Hey Mom, can I go outside and ride my scooter?”
Then Logan, age 9, who was shooting baskets in the hallway upstairs (yep, that’s right), exclaimed, “Me too! I’m gonna go shoot baskets at the court!”
And I about fell to my knees and wept tears of relief and joy.
I don’t know about you all, but 10 days ago, when that pesky little rodent had the nerve to get spooked by his own shadow (and how, I’d like to know, since I am convinced the sun does not shine anymore, anywhere), I was almost surprised to be feeling discouraged and disappointed at the news. It’s a legend, after all. It has no bearing on anything. On February 2, there are 6 more weeks of winter any way you roll the dice, even if the forecast is for 6 more weeks of balmy sunshine, there are in fact, literally 6 more weeks of winter.
Yet, I was just looking for a small glimmer of hope that this especially glum, gray, and harsh winter was getting ready to come to an end sooner rather than later, even if the logic was crazy. Instead, The Weather Channel assured me that instead of hope and change, I’d be seeing more of the same: snow, cold, clouds.
So today, after what has seemed like endless days of “hey, let’s build ANOTHER giant fort out of all the pillows we can find in the house”, my boys were finally able to take the party outside.
Yes, in case you are wondering, that is the sound of Ode to Joy coming from my house, with me doing a little victory dance in the kitchen.
Take that, Winter! You’ve tried but you haven’t beaten me yet this year.
But hurry up, Spring! So I don’t crack before the ice does.
