Avery loves Brittain. She loves to hold her, make her giggle, dance with her. After reminding Avery several times, several days not to dance around with Brittain because “you might drop her and crack her head open” I saw her doing it- again. So I very firmly told her not to dance around with Brittain. She brilliantly replied, “I’m not dancing, Mom. I’m just walking fancy!” Oh- my mistake. Gotta love that girl. Both of them for that matter.
We also scooted Avery’s booster seat up to the 2nd row in the van. She just kept getting car sick. Yesterday after I picked her up from school she was all-a-chatter. Igotinthesupriseboxit’slikemy100time.I’mtheonlyonewhogottopicksomethingtodayIsatbyKendalandAsia.IlikesittinguphereMomevenifIdohavetolistentoyourradio. Wait. What? Even if you have to listen to my radio?! What is wrong with my radio. And how old are you anyway? Only five? Huh.
I read a comment the other day on Melissa’s awesome post by mommyj. (While the link to mommyj takes you to her blog and not the actual comment I couldn’t help myself. She is an incredible writer and mother who finds the humor in everyday. Stop by both.) And if it’s too much work to go linking I’ll give you the gist: Melissa was writing about Katelund and how motherhood doesn’t get better (very sweet post) and mommyj wrote that when she was in the grocery store a man commented about how she really enjoyed her children. This is the most roundabout way to get to my point (I think I have one). But that struck my core. Now I enjoy my children, most of the time, but to have someone stop me in the grocery store (of all places) and comment on how much I enjoy my children? It would never happen. What a HUGE compliment!
So I decided that as a mother I needed to refocus. I’m always in a rush when we go out. And when we’re at home I’m constantly saying, “just a minute” or “we’ll play that game as soon as I …” Anyway, after reading that comment I realized, again, that I needed to take more time just being Mom. More time for playing, reading, snuggling. The rewards have been tremendous. (The heaping pile of dishes congregating in my sink is also tremendous- that is okay!) I’m still able to accomplish what I “need” to but I’m taking more time for the most important part of my job. I’m listening more earnestly, loving more deeply, and truly enjoying this beautiful calling of motherhood.
In other news, today my baby brother is joining the Army National Guard. I’m still a little sick to my stomach. Only because I’m really concerned about him. And I’m so thankful for the men and women who serve our country and for the sacrifices they make. But I guess I’m also a little selfish and I don’t want my brother to be one of those making the sacrifice. He has a beautiful wife and a brand new baby. When I first heard the news I kept praying that he would change his mind. Then I prayed that Heavenly Father just would not let him sign up. We are at war, after all. But I guess that would mean I was praying for Heavenly Father to take away his agency. And that would make me the devil. Finally, I’m able to say I’m really proud of you, Eric. I know you have thought this through (right?!) I love you and your family! And I know you will do what is best for them.
On to the last tidbit of the day. This one kind of had me gagging.
For the last few days my car has reeked of cigarette smoke. I could not figure out where the smell was coming from, it was too real to be my imagination. I wondered if we’d been somewhere that there was smoking and we picked it up in our coats. I began sniffing upholstery, and jackets, Brittain’s blankets and snuggler, to no avail. Then it happened. One day as we were driving, I really needed a tissue and there were none to be found. None, that is but the “dangerous kleenex”, (as Brook would say). You know the kind. Rumpled up, slightly used. So I grabbed it and blew my snoz in the least offensive corner. And it reeked! Like cigarrete smoke. Big time.
Weird. My hyper-paranoid brain seriously, and I’m not proud of this, imagined the neighbors sneaking over at night and lighting up in the minivan to get out of the weather. Then I started imagining that maybe they were stashing “other goods” inside as well. I even went so far as to say to Avery that we’d better start locking the van in the driveway. Then I got home, filled my arms with kids and their paraphernalia and headed inside, forgetting about the stinky napkin.
The next day as Ryan helped me load the kids I asked him if he could smell the smoke. He could. He also concluded that we’d better start locking the van at home. Then I remembered the napkin. I made him sniff it. He did. He also noticed something I had not. The butt of a cigarette wrapped all snug in the napkin. Eeeww. Then I remembered something else.
A few days before I had noticed a crumpled napkin sitting in the parking lot next to the van. I didn’t remember it falling out but figured it very well could have so I picked up the litter and stuck it in the door pocket. Turns out it was not my trash. Mystery solved! Gross on so many levels. And embarrasing!
There you have it. Good luck trying to figure out something to comment on. My obvious bad taste in music, the fact that I’m a selfish little devil, or that I’m crazy enough to think my neighbors have a conspiracy against me. Lovely.