Welcome! Are you feeling guilty for consistently making fun of things your husband says in your "Not Me!" posts? Wondering if your toddler will ever be completely potty trained? "Not Me!" Monday was written just for you. It frees me up to admit my (and I admit, my family's...) many imperfections and vent about the absolutely ridiculous things that are my everyday. Enjoy at my expense, and join in the fun by commenting below!
*********************************************
Oh my. What a crazy couple of weeks. Snow. Church. In-laws. Snow. Financial seminars. Phone calls. House floods. In-laws again - for a few nights. More snow. FEET of snow. Stuck at in-laws. Church at home. More phone calls. More snow. Home briefly. Back to in-laws...with suitcases. I find myself nearly incapable of maintaining composure as I ride a (very thinly veiled) emotional roller coaster. Trying to trust my God, knowing He is in control no matter how ape-baloney my life seems to be getting...well, suffice it to say that is not always an easy thing to do.
So instead I'll blog. Another gratitude post is begging to be written. Until then, I am so behind on my "Not Me!" posts. So here we go. Over the past two weeks...
It was not me who totally chowed on an enormous bad of Skittles we bought for one of my son's friend's birthday present. Yum. I mean, not me!
While cleaning my two- and three-year-old sons' room, I meticulously placed each toy in the clear plastic box labeled with a colorful picture of its contents. I...ahem...did not get so frustrated with cleaning up Mr. Potato head's pants for the fortieth time that I just shoved them under the boys' dresser.
No, I never, ever use nursing the baby as an excuse to stay downstairs or sit in front of the computer while my husband puts the kids to bed. Never.
Cameron is best occupied when doing things he is not allowed to do, as most boys are. Armed with this knowledge, I certainly did not intentionally give him a huge roll of stickers and purposefully allow him to go to town decorating our kitchen floor, just so I could have a few minutes of quiet and enjoy a cup of hot tea sans-screaming children. Nope. Not me!
During the past two weeks, I have not had a day so utterly frustrating, so absolutely non-productive that I actually put my five-month-old in front of "The Very Hungry Caterpillar," just so I could get one stinking load of dishes done. Gasp! What kind of mother...??? Not me!!
I do not routinely dress my three-year-old in too-small pants because he is growing too stinking fast to keep up with. (And I do not make comments almost daily about how enormous he is, despite the fact that his father is 6'6" and I should not be surprised that he is 42" tall and easily the size of an average five-year-old.) Don't even get me started on his shoe size...
I did not turn around from doing dishes the other day to find that my fair-skinned, blonde-headed two-year-old had drawn all over his head..with a Sharpie.
When I aim to get household chores done, I do not turn a blind eye to whatever my children may be doing at the time, simply so I can get something accomplished. Which is why I did not allow my boys to rearrange, sort into pots, toss, and roll fresh fruit all around the kitchen two weeks ago, just so I could clean up a bit. What's four or five pounds of bruised fruit between friends?
I'm so glad my toddlers are calm, responsible, predictable little boys. Our days are never interrupted with shrieks of, "Daddy!!! Come look at this!!!" And such phrases certainly don't come from the bathroom. And should we (hesitantly) investigate such shrieking (which we don't, because our boys are calm and predictable, remember?) we definitely don't find them with one foot on the bathroom stool, one on the sink, and two hands on the toilet seat, arching their bottom into the air in a feat of as yet unparalleled bathroom acrobatics...nope. Not our kids.
And while I'm on the subject of the bathroom, let's just get something clear. My sons love me. A lot. Heaps and heaps and whole, whole bunches, in fact. And just so you know, they tell me all the time, too. In lots of different places and during a myriad of different activities. Not usually while I am wiping their bottoms.
We have been staying with my in-laws for two weeks while our downstairs is basically demolished. But keeping up with everyone's belongings and dirty laundry has been a cinch. I am never running around like a headless chicken looking for a clean undergarment, properly sized diaper, or two matching shoes. Similarly, I have not put a pair of his cousin's significantly smaller socks on Kayden's enormous feet like seventeen times. And since we woke up by 8:30am on Sunday, getting to church for the 11am service was cake. Everyone was clean, matching, and totally on time. Cam's shoes were not on the wrong feet, Kayden's pants weren't nearly falling off, we were not 15 minutes late, and I did not have to wear a pair of Kyler's black dress socks with my brown shoes and too-short blue pants. Nope. Not me!
*********************************************
No comments:
Post a Comment