Spring Fever

 

I have a love-hate relationship with this time of year.  The roses and azaleas are beginning to bloom, with crepe myrtles soon to follow.  The evenings are longer and the boys and I enjoy our tandem walk/ bike ride to end the day.  On the other hand the grass seems to always need mowing, the weeds always need pulling, and the boys are extra rambunctious, bursting with the energy of Spring.
 
Tonight they were playing "somersault battle" on the couch.  Whose brilliant idea was this?
In this game, you somersault AT eachother, each hurling your body off an armrest toward the center of the couch.  Apparently whoever does not fall on the floor or crack their head on the table wins?
Well not surprisingly Littl’n got hurt.  He made the mistake of proclaiming himself the tournament champion, at which point Bigg’n declared, "OH ITS ON!" The little Einsteins agreed to another round, resulting in a heel to the chin.  "BUT MOM, it's not my fault-- I don't have eyes on my feet!”  And THIS is what happens when i try to have a telephone conversation.
 
On the plus side, it's still cool enough to enjoy hopping on my riding mower with a little Pandora.  This week I got a little carried away belting Zac Brown and doing doughnuts in the yard when I clipped a landscape timber, busting the deck on the ole John Deere. Yeah, Daddy was not too happy with Mommy that day.  But we take the good with the bad, because that's how this life works.  Another day, another season of challenges and growth.

Cracked

"It's not about finding a perfect person to love--It's about learning to love an imperfect person, perfectly."

My husband cannot sit still.

I used to think it was amusing, even cute, and seemed to balance my laid-back inertia. Later, not so much. We now have a little offspring with the same problem, so I'm reminded daily it's not their fault. It's genetic, yo. But seriously?

The familiar scene.. sitting side by side at our laptops working quietly, when suddenly the table begins to vibrate.. then shake violently. Is it an earthquake? A tremor in the force? No, it's a giant leg bouncing like a jackhammer under the table. Grrrrrrr. "Nervous dear?"

If you follow me on facebook, you may have seen this post a few weeks ago...

"If your marriage can survive ____, it can survive anything. Over the years, I've filled that blank with a number of things.. stillbirth, infertility, NICU, parenting, I repeat, PARENTING, and a myriad of other various hurdles. Today I'm adding 'writing a dissertation' to that list. HOLY. MOLY. This will be a great piece of scholarly literature if we can survive with some sense of peace/sanity in tact. Not killing eachother would be a big plus!"

Well, after some thought, i don't think I'm gonna kill him, but ducktaping his legs to the chair has not been ruled out. (And there just might be a stray Valium in his next cappucino.).
 
As I type this, curled up on the couch with my iphone in hand, the big bear is sound asleep in my lap, and all is right with the world. It occurs to me that we might be a little like that cracked set of antique salt and pepper shakers you bought at a flea market ages ago. Their quirky uniqueness was always a big part of their value. Of course they're both terribly flawed, but hey-- they're a matching set. An original matching set, might I add, something becoming more and more rare these days. You could probably get a pretty penny at auction, but no-- these are definitely keepers



 

Castle Wars

Today my sons were having a heated argument, an all too familiar occurrence in our lives of late.  The little one was on the verge of tears, and I wasn’t far myself, when mercifully, Daddy swooped in to intervene.  Handing them both giant foam swords, King Daddy declared, “It shall be settled by duel--Fight!”  The younglings stared at him, dumbfounded.  “Five rounds, best three out of five—Winner takes all, now fight!”

It was brutal.  It was close.  (From what I heard--I confess, the fair queen shielded her eyes).   In the end the youngest squire took a blow to the neck that sealed his fate, and ended the squabble definitively.  No one expected what would happen next, as the proud victor turned to find himself eye to eye with the king himself, wielding a Star Wars light saber. 

  “Now, you shall fight ME.” 

  “But Dad, you’ll kill me!” shrieked the wary warrior. 

  “And don’t you EVER forget it,” declared the king.

As I type this, my sweet sons are seated side by side watching TV, a program they actually agreed upon.  I often question King Daddy’s methods, but for the moment, there is peace in the kingdom.  And where there is peace, there is a happy queen.

Of Horrors

"Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality." 
--Edgar Allen Poe

Ah, the exquisite horror of reality.  A mother knows it well.  At least this one does.  It seems Mr. Poe was well acquainted with my life.

Exhibit A.

"Wow, Mom, I hope brother's tummy feels better soon. But if it doesn't and it's appendicitis and he dies, I hope he comes back with a cool story about heaven.  Please pass the syrup." 

In related news, today the dog brought me half a dead blackbird.  I repeat, HALF-- recognizable only by the remains of it's one small skeletal bird leg.  This is my life, in all its raw and cruel morbidity.  These moments are exquisitely real, and for that I count myself blessed to live them. No, for me the true horrors lie in the monotony between such moments of substance.  And I find at times, like most moms I'm sure, the greatest of courage is required to simply forge headlong into the painfully mundane.  Sock matching, anyone?  Oh, the horror.

Filter

Today my youngest son said to me, "Mommy, I really wish I had a sister."

What I wanted to say:

Shut your mouth, you insensitive little twerp!  You think I'm thrilled your sister died?  You think I enjoy watching everyone around me have daughters, knowing I never will?  Take the knife and twist it why don't you?

What I actually said: 

I know sweetie. That's why God gave you girl cousins to play with.  You'll have plenty of time to get to know your sister in heaven.  Just be thankful you have a brother.  Now eat. Your breakfast is getting cold.