I am sure that any mother can relate to the constant use of the word “mommy” “mom” “ma” “mother”and “mama” in which our children like to use over and over and over again…
I remember when my first baby was born and I could not wait to hear that word. From the time he started babbling I started tying to get him to say mama…of course he said dada first…but patiently I waited and finally one day that life changing word braised across my ears…”mama”
Now it’s years later… and 3 toddlers and the use of that word have become as common in this household as the air in which we breath. And quite frankly has lost it’s lusteur. If there is one thing my kids are consistent at it is the use of that word. Sometimes to the point that makes me want to run to the very back of my closet and hide…only they would still find me there or call out the word until finally I had no other choice but to answer them.
I have tried, on many occasions, to tune then out with no avail…ignoring them has yet to work either because they just become little monuments of loudness and the sound literally pierces my eardrums. (And I used to be the lead singer of a punk rock band in which my eardrums withstood nightly beats of loud music) But nothing compares to the screeching sound of a child screaming out “MOMMY” when they think mommy isn’t paying attention. As I sit here in this very moment writing this blog and trying to concentrate I have been interrupted so many times that I have lost all hope of finishing a thought let alone this blog entry.
To only add to the madness my 3 year old prefers to call me just “mom” which wouldn’t be a problem other then the fact she sounds like a 13 year old referring to her mother instead of the sweet innocence of a 3 year old saying it. Did I just put sweet innocence and 3 year old in the same sentence?
Now you might be one of those mothers or fathers or however you refer to yourself to a child, that thinks the sounds of little ones voices are like magic tones of colors bouncing off rainbows and well good for you…I am a mother who rarely hears the sounds of silence in my crazy house of 7 people. Sometimes, when on trips to the local grocery store by myself I don’t even turn on the radio because these days those short trips in the car are about the only sounds of silence this mommy gets to enjoy.
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I am on my third child to be potty trained and may I also add to that the fact that I have been changing diapers for 5 years straight…yes you read that right 5 years and 3 toddlers later I am finally seeing the light at the end of the large trail of diapers. I have seen explosive, poop up the back and down the leg diapers. I have seen diapers so soaked that they have then soiled through to the bottom half of clothing in a matter of literally a one hour car ride. I have dealt with diaper rashes, 3 boxes of 3 different sized diapers, many trips to Costco and the late night emergency runs to the local drug store because one of the 3 over sized boxes had some how mysteriously ran out without anyone noticing. I have changed diapers in the mini van (which could someone please tell me why they have not come up with a pop up changing table in mini vans?) in 115 degree weather bent over and sweating like I have just run a 5K. I have even changed a diaper while my child had to lay on the ground because there was nothing for me to lay her on due to the fact that we were at an amusement park at closing time.
This is me in so said amusement park during operating family bathroom hours. Yes my husband and I might have been a bit crazy to take 3 babies in diapers to an amusement park but what the hell? Our teenage sons had fun. And luckily for them they were racing around trying to get every possible last ride in while my husband and I were sitting at our last buffet styled extravaganza hoping to just put an end to a very crazy day that we had already had….but wait….our adventures weren’t quite over because my (one year old at the time) had just decided to crap while sitting in a high chair “luckily” at a table outside. And when I say crap I don’t mean JUST a shitty diaper…we are talking the kind of shit that makes any person within a 100 foot radius run for the hills…IT WAS EVERYWHERE!!! Had she of possibly made a noise while she was taking said crap I might have been able to catch it before it was too late but nope it wasn’t until the over powering smell finally made contact to my nose that I knew what was happening and by then it was just too late. As I looked at my husband in utter disbelief I kept hoping that maybe it was just a really bad case of gas…but then…I reached over…pulled the shirt up and the diaper back…only I didn’t even get to the diaper part because the shit had literally traveled EVERYWHERE!!! It was even layered upon the high chair. The first thought that came to mind was “WHERE IS THE NEAREST HOSE”!!! Now let’s rewind to the fact that she had already soiled through every piece of clothing that we had packed in her diaper bag that morning therefore there was nothing left but diapers. And then came the fact that we had to use every wipey left in the bag. Now we were down to scavenging for every last napkin left on any table within our reach…then it was frantically looking for ANYTHING that could possibly clean this catastrophic shit up!!! We couldn’t lay her on the table because I was so afraid of the table not being sanitized before the next day of families ate there therefore the ground on that little tiny piece of changing cloth that they put in diaper bags (why is that?) was our only option. After trying to sanitize the high chair with hand sanitizer and napkins we gathered up our belongings and raced out of their as fast as we could carry ourselves, 3 babies, and all of our gear. The boys of course somehow caught up with us just in time of it all being over.
The best thing I can say about that day and that moment is that my husband and I came together and worked as a team and later laughed about it like crazy. And still to this day it is a story that will live on in this family for years to come…sorry my dear Mazel.
We as parents have all heard this term used many times yet I still read daily social media and find that parents aren’t listening to the true meaning behind this phrase. I hear the cries of “My children don’t respect me” and “My kids are so ungrateful”…well why do you think that is? You are the parent who is raising these kids to walk all over you therefore you have the power to change them!!! You are a parent and not a friend means just that…stop worrying about whether or not your kids are going to hate you because at some point in their lives they are going to and that is when you know you have done your job right. I am not saying that you need to be Hitler at raising your children but simply that if you feel like you need to put your foot down, then you probably do.
Let’s talk about chores for instance. A child at the time they can walk can start out doing chores such as putting their toys away. Gradually as they develop and grow you can give them more responsibility. Don’t think that because you are the parent that you have to wait on them hand and foot. Doing so only turns kids into loathing 25 year olds still living at home with mommy and daddy because anything less would be….well just that…less. Work ethic to them is succeeding at the latest level of their current video game addiction or how many followers they have on the latest social media network.
I often wonder about the parents who just simply “check out” of their kids “checking in” to the real world, like it is some sort of inconvenience to raise what they have brought into this world. Letting them do what they want, just because it seems easier is not an option. Do I as a parent pick my battles? Of course I do but I always make sure my kids know that I still have the upper hand and that at any given moment I can change the life that they have become so accustomed to.
As a society of parents let’s do each other a favor…TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR CHILDREN!!! It’s ok to tell them no and send them to their room or a time out to the nearest corner, whichever you prefer. It’s ok to take their prized possessions, aka cell phones, tv, game systems, designer clothes, and social life and media away from them. As a matter of fact I encourage this. You can be their friend after they have moved out, paid their own way, and started a life of their own. Tough love is not a term used for describing getting your heart broke. It means loving your children but still knowing when it is time to take hold of the reigns, put your foot down, and not give into their never ending wants(NOTICE I SAID WANTS NOT NEEDS). Being a parent means having to be “mean” sometimes and always being one step ahead of your children’s actions…it’s ok…life will go on and the less menaces to society we have running around…the better.
I have come to the realization that it is time for me to get on the healthy track because who wouldn’t want to be cute and sexy and fit in the clothes that have been hoarded in my closet long before the days of having babies? It’s a never ending cycle really…lose a few pounds, fit in those jeans you love (when I say fit I mean trying to jump into them from a second story window and then doing 20 or 30 squats to try and get them lose enough to breath) eating with such said jeans on, is of course, not an option. Then I decide that the jeans are over rated and so is this whole idea of trying to be skinny so onto the hanger go the jeans and off to the store in my favorite sweat or yoga pants I go to obtain all the beer, wine, and goodies that I can fit into one basket. The next morning the scale is my worst enemy and the cycle starts all over again.
So here I find myself at the gym again skimming through Pinterest while passing the dreadful 20 minutes of the treadmill when something catches my eye. What is this? A diet for 3 days that can help me lose up to 10 pounds!!! Is this for real? And of course in the midst of my excitement I find myself missing a step and having to push the emergency stop button on the machine. After recovering myself from complete and utter treadmill failure I continue to read about this glorious 10 pounds in 3 days diet…cause let’s face it anyone can stick to anything for 3 days right?
Well here I am in the middle of day two and the children are still alive and my husband,lucky for him, is getting ready to go to work. I haven’t had any caffeine which for this mother of 5 means that someone’s white shirt will soon be pink and the milk will switch places with the cereal and find it’s resting ground in the cupboard and at sometime before the end of day I will be shuffling around in a manner in which resembles one of those walker characters on the “Walking Dead”. I also am not allowed any alcohol which means after my long day of 3 toddlers when usually I would draw a bubble bath and pour a glass (very large glass in which holds half a bottle) of wine and slip into what feels like a small coma, instead I will be trying to find something to do, which lastnight consisted of thumbing through food recipes on Pinterest only to make me realize even more the sacrifices I am making for these 3 days.
Do I feel better? Have I lost any weight? Am I hungry? The truth is I have no energy and I am quite certain that I burned off every calorie consumed yesterday at the gym and couldn’t even finish my routine due to utter exhaustion. I refuse to get on the scale even though it feels like a giant elephant in the bathroom, and although I am not hungry, per say, every time I open the refrigerator I see every bit of everything that looks good including the wilted lettuce that is probably a day away from being mush which sits right next to the cold beer that looks like it has a light layer of frost on the bottle which I know is just my alcohol deprived mind playing tricks on me. But I go on looking forward to my next meal (although I don’t call two hotdogs and a cup of broccoli a meal) and in looking forward to I mean checking and rechecking the diet list for day two which never changes no matter how many times I look at it.