Yesterday I was fired. In a fit of five year old rage he fired me. Stomped his foot and fired me.
"Fine." I said. "I have some things to do in town anyway, and I didn't want to have to take you with me."
"No, Mama! The police will come and you will go to jail if you leave me here!"
"Well, I guess you can't fire me then."
He looked at his toes scuffing the tiled floor. "Well, you're still fired. Just don't leave, Mama."
So I went to read a book. I was bring a little selfish, too. A whole book. While the sink sat full of dirty dishes and the dish washer was full and un-run.
"Mama?" Chapter 12. "Can I have some applesauce?"
"I don't know. You fired me."
"Then you won't care."
And I didn't.
"Mama?" Chapter 25. "Can I sit on your lap?"
"Am I still fired?"
"I guess not."
"Sure, climb up here. But try not to wiggle. I'm reading."
He slipped his thumb into his mouth and toyed with a wisp of my hair. His breathing slowed and deepened, and the wet thumb slipped from between his lips. Chapter 31.
I sighed and shifted his weight. Only 3 more chapters to go. Never mind that my left arm was asleep from the elbow down from the weight of his sweaty head. I was almost done.
I closed the back cover of my book and hefted us off the couch. I carried my boy to his bed and tucked him in.
"Night, Mama," he mumbled as I kissed his mop of hair.
"Night, Love," I replied.
*While not entirely true, this story is inspired by actual events, and he does call me Mama. He's the only one.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Parade 2010
What? Doesn't every one keep a stack of 5 gallon buckets on their porch?
Well, after the stack sat there for about a week, my husband started getting a little cranky with "the mess in the way," so I knew I had to move forward with my bucket stack.
I added support posts which gave me the right shape and something to staple my chicken wire to. I wrapped the top in some cardboard that a friend had on hand for various projects, and papier mached the bottom portion (Boy, if my husband hadn't liked the mess before, he sure hated it now!) to create...
a giant sized beaker! Actually, it's an Erlenmeyer Flask, but when you say that, people scratch their heads and say, "Huh?" If you say beaker, they know just what you are talking about.
This became the float for the parade in our small town. As the publicity coordinator for our MOPs group, it was my job to see to the parade float. MOPs International has given us the theme "Momology: The Art and Science of Mothering" which, frankly, I don't love, but I wanted to work with the theme.
Here we are all lined up for our parade on a grey and foggy Saturday morning.
We walked as a group with all the other MOPs groups in our area. There are now actually 4 groups in our town and neighboring areas. The newest group is MOMSNext, for moms whose kids have gone into elementary school.
We didn't have quite the turn out I wanted. The parade is always the first weekend in August, but a funny thing happened this year with Sunday being August 1st. I think people assumed the parade was going to be on the 31st of July, but it was actually on the first Saturday of August. Sadly, a lot of people already had other plans by the time they figured that out.
Any way, we got rained on, so I am sure a lot of people were glad to not be there.
And then my camera batteries died....
Sunday, August 8, 2010
A Startling Realization
Remember when you had your first baby? Your second baby? Your third, fourth, or fifth? No? I do. I also remember how everyone said, "Cherish these days. they will go so fast, and you will miss them when they are gone."
Well, I guess if you only have one child, "these days" tend to go very fast. if you have five... not so much.
I came to the startling realization this week that "these days" are finally over.
Last weekend we drove to the far side of the state to go to some really cool water slides. Me, and my five kids. Just us, no dad. I realized that all of my kids were old enough to play without my constant supervision. Even the youngest of my kids was told, "I am going to go ride this ride. You stay here." And he did.
Then, just yesterday, we walked in our town's parade. I just walked. two of my kids watched, and three of them walked with our group. I didn't have to hold any one's hand. I didn't even worry that they would get lost. I just handed out business cards for MOPs and chatted to people I knew along the way.
I guess "these days" are over. They were exhausting, and I think it will be a REALLY long time before I miss them.
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