Joyful Mother???

Joyful Mother

As a mother I always question myself whether or not I am doing a good enough job?  Could I be doing more? Am I hovering over them too much? Am I raising them to be good people and make good choices?  Truth is being a mom has been the hardest but most rewarding job that I have ever endured.  A very common phrase used by many mothers.

I have a sign that hangs in the hallway to my toddlers bedrooms which reads “be a joyful mother of children”.  I bought it when I was pregnant with my first because I loved the statement.  And everyday I read it and remind myself all the reasons that these little beings, with a mix of me and their father in them, bring such joy to my life.

But what about the days that I don’t feel so joyful.  Do they notice? Are they aware that mommy just isn’t feeling up to par today because it seems to me that sometimes they like to see just how far they can test my patience.  Even at such a young age they know how to strategize with each other to see just what they can and cannot get away with.  On these particular days I try to remember the little things that are of big importance.

Their laughter

I love to hear my children laugh, especially at the simplest of events.  I am the outsider watching them in their little world of wonder.  The communication between them that only they understand.

Their innocence Their minds haven’t been corrupted by the ways of the world yet.  Their only disappointment is that the fruit snacks have ran out and mommy isn’t running to the store to get more.

Their youth Oh to be young and have no major responsibilities.  The plans of the day are to eat, play, and sleep.  Your role of the day is maybe helping mom fold some laundry or picking up the toys.

Their minds The little wheel is constantly turning.  Little sponges, gathering as much information as they can comprehend.

Their health Not only that they are healthy but that they have so much energy.  The kind of energy I would like to bottle up and use when needed because at my age that kind of energy doesn’t come along without a massive dose of caffeine or B vitamins.

Being a “joyful” mother might have different meanings to different mothers.  But for me it’s just finding the moments that remind me why I decided to become a mother in the first place.

Joyful Mother (most of the time),

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All about U

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I am a food network and cooking channel fanatic.  And when I say fanatic I mean it is on my tv all day everyday.  I have become quite the chef just from watching cooking shows.  Chopped is probably my favorite hence why I have 35 episodes saved on my DVR.  Right now I am watching Bobby Flay make his wife some delicious looking biscuits and gravy which I will be taking note since they are a huge love of in this house.   Apparently his wife is mad at him and he is trying to win her over…personally the way to my heart is not through my stomach but more like 20 minutes to myself in a tub with a glass of wine and maybe a massage before bed ((trailing off dreaming here)).  Back to reality… I think I just discovered what I am going to be making for dinner tonight…yes I am one of those people who likes breakfast for dinner and so is the rest of my clan.

Now I didn’t always like to cook.  I wasn’t one of those kids who was always trying to put something together and call it food.  My mother had to literally force me to learn how to cook anything other then mac and cheese in the box.  She used to have me make dinner a couple times a week and every time I either burnt or undercooked something.  I was horrible at it.

Now over time I would pick up recipes here and there, usually very simple ones, and I would try to perfect the ones that I really liked and that were liked by others but still just never quite conquered the art of cooking not to mention I just really didn’t like to cook.  How would I ever become domesticated if I couldn’t even boil water correctly?  Back then it was easy because I didn’t have any little mouths to feed therefore there was a lot of eating out.  I miss the days of eating out all the time…no mess…someone else does the cooking and the cleaning up. ((trailing again))

Now when I met my husband I had become somewhat domesticated by this point…I mean I would hope that at 35 I had learned how to at least boil water and not burn the toast.Unknown  He too was quite domesticated which was one of the traits I loved about him.  He had the ability to take any leftover ingredients in the fridge and throw them together and make it tasty.  Wonder what ever happened to that man that used to do that cause these days I am lucky if I can get him to throw meat on the grill.

In our old house I liked to “cook” but didn’t really get into “cooking” I would make the basics…spaghetti, chili, broiled chicken breast.  But whatever I was cooking had to have meat…I learned early on that a meal was not a meal unless there was meat involved, per my husband.  I tried making a pasta dish one time with no meat in it and had to hear him complain for the rest of the night.  Listening to him complain is like listening to teeth scraping across a fork…very unpleasant.

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Now this is probably what I would resemble if I were to have my own cooking show.  I still have no clue how these chefs can talk and cook at the same time.  I can’t walk and chew gum therefore I would not attempt to have at my own cooking show cause who wants to just watch someone scurry around like a chicken with her head cut off trying to cut the head off of a chicken?  Make sense? Of course not and neither does the way I cook.  But over time I have come to appreciate the art of cooking.  Not so much that I would run out and join some kind of cooking competition but enough that I feel confident in what I am making for the family.  That doesn’t always mean that what I whoop up is a hit.  Like for instance the time I got into making several types of pesto and putting that pesto on EVERYTHING…yeah that didn’t go over too well in this family.

So I carry on, introducing new items to my own personal cooking skilled menu.  The fun part is I don’t find myself making the same stuff all the time.  I mean if I can’t have variety in anything else in my life mine as well have a great versatile relationship with food right?

Grocery Shopping

WHAT’S FOR LUNCH?

I am plagued with this question daily.  I am also plagued with what’s for dinner but that can be a whole other blog in itself.  Today was a rather rough challenge for this topic as I have been putting off grocery shopping all week.  I loathe grocery shopping with every part of my being.  The “preparing” to go which usually consists of gathering up any coupons I can use which now that I live in such a rural area is very limited.  I used to be the coupon queen and was proud of all the savings I endured for a family of seven and still managed to feed us more then top ramen and ho ho’s.  There is also just the mental preparation of knowing I have to go out and endure the crowds of people who fill up our local Wal-Mart…I don’t particularly like Wal-Mart and pretty much avoided it all together when we lived in southern Nevada but here there are just certain items that are much cheaper at Wal-Mart…like milk, which this family of 7 easily plows through a gallon a day easily.  It’s almost 2 dollars cheaper per gallon at Wal-mart.  The one thing I DO NOT do is go anywhere near a Wal-Mart on the first of the month…no way…no how.  Not only is it horribly overcrowded but some of the “welfare” recipients shouldn’t be getting welfare at all.  Once again a whole other blog topic for me.

When I actually get to the grocery store…now mind you I am lucky in that I do not have to take my 3 toddlers grocery shopping with me.  I tried that once and let me just tell you I needed a xanax and a shot of whiskey by the time we got home.  I either plan it while my husband is off work or I go once the teenagers are home from school.  I count my lucky stars for that.  What I don’t understand are the ENTIRE families…mom, dad, and all the kids that make the trip to Wal-Mart.  Like it isn’t crowded enough between all the people and the stuff that Wal-Mart likes to stuff in the middle of the isles but now let’s add to it by loading up every family member and having a daily outing at good ol Wolly World…It’s not an amusement park people.

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Now we get to checking out.  The check out people are always so grumpy.  I know it must suck working for a company that pretty much pisses on it’s employees, but hey that’s not my fault…take it up with the CEO.  Also you could just try being thankful that you have a job because there are so many people that do not.  And when I say hello to you saying hello back is the polite thing to say…not grunt and proceed to throw my groceries around with an attitude.  Now this attitude doesn’t apply when I shop at our local Raley’s or Khoury’s supermarket…those employees are always smiling and very helpful…hence just another reason I would avoid Wal-Mart all together if I were single.

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Once done with checking out…oh and I forgot to mention that by the time I get to check out my cart is usually so full that I have stuff hanging from the sides and I am pushing it slower then the 80 year old lady next to me.  I do not understand why those carts can’t accommodate more items. Now it’s getting all the checked out items back into one cart and out to the van without losing a gallon of milk crashing to the ground and busting open.  Yes that has happened to me with both milk and soda.  And not only did the soda bust open but cans went rolling everywhere.  Talk about embarrassing and frustrating all rolled into one little bundle of “WHAT THE ACTUAL F*#K?”

So I shove everything in the back of the van and off I go on the last stretch of my grocery shopping extravaganza.  Once I get home I honk the horn and pull into the garage and wait for all my helpers to come out and start unloading the food filled bags.  Of course they all peek to see if I have bought any “good” stuff which they should just know by now that I don’t.  Well maybe on rare occasions. And rare I mean like holidays.  Then it takes all of us working in unison to get all the stuff put away.  And once again the fridge and pantries are full and it’s time for dinner….let’s order pizza.

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Mommy Has Left The Building

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.

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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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