There are many universal truths of being a mother and never have they been more apparent than the last few months of my life. One shining example stands out as I sift through the dirty clothes before I toss them in the washer: I always, always have a tissue in my pocket. Every jacket I ever pull out of the back of my closet has at least one; my hoodies and zip-ups usually have pockets bulging with half-used, ripped up, balled up and occasionally (ok, rarely) an unused Puffs Plus Lotion. I am as likely to wipe your child's nose as I am the noses of my own children and if you sneeze or sniffle, I'll have to hold back from offering you a mildly crunchy but utterly sincere sign of motherhood at it's best.
I have more experience than I'd like with the sheer terror that is Melissa & Doug sound puzzles at dusk. If you've not been a party to such a delightful experience, I'd be happy to loan you one of ours. Sleep well, especially when you can't find the elephant...
Zhu-Zhu pets are the bane of my existence. At least, they are at 2:30 am when someone needs a drink of water and I'm stumbling around sans glasses in the pitch-black hallway. Do you know how long those fricking things run without being played with? Bump, thump, ZING, chirp chirp, giggle, ZING, thump, BUZZZZZZZ. At last count, 18 minutes. And yes, I looked for it... all the while crossing my fingers that no one wakes up from the ruckus.
Although, I must say I cannot refrain from laughing while watching my 17-month-old chase and run from his sibling's Zhu-Zhus with horrified delight. He's fine when they're jamming themselves into the wall but when they turn themselves around and head towards him? Well, let's just say I really wish I had a camera with a faster lens. Because those would be some Hilarious pictures.
While I trend towards a more alternative vaccine schedule and fully embrace and prefer holistic medicine, I maintain a deep, abiding love for the wonderousness that is Amoxicillin. Seriously, I almost wept with joy yesterday upon squirting that disgusting pepto-pink liquid down the throats of my three eager babes. Today we are on day six of a nasty case of strep throat, and because I am the Mother Of The Year, they were only diagnosed yesterday. After untold instances of vomiting and intermittent fevers, never mind the screaming, crying and general malaise running rife through my home, it seemed only logical to take the littles to the minute-clinic for a throat culture. Three raging positives later, I danced out of the pharmacy with vials of pink gold and the light at the end of the tunnel in plain view. Sleep, beautiful sleep, was had by all in my house last night. It was a thing of such beauty that I wish someone had been there to witness it along with me. Perhaps now strangers in public will stop telling me "Gosh, you look tired."
What are your universal parenting truths?
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Thursday, March 1, 2012
I'm Having an Affair
And everything people say about the intoxicating effects of an affair are absolutely true. I'm addicted to him - the way he smells, the way he makes me feel inside, how my heart races after I've been with him. He makes me happy and energizes me; with him in my corner, I feel like I can accomplish anything. He's incredible and I love him. Love, love, LURVE him.
He never lets me down; he's always there for me and on the rare occasion that I can't get ahold of him I panic and feel physically ill. Sometimes I wonder if I love him too much. Perhaps I'm even dependent on him? For instance, today: I came home from running errands and his incredibly sexy smell was calling to me, begging me to drop everything and spend an hour with him. In my head I was thinking, No, this is a bad idea. Don't do it, Leah. You'll regret it in a few hours when you're alone and all you can think about is him. And so for the first time in as long as I can remember, I resisted him. I employed the shreds of self-control that I possess - and let's be real, I wasn't entirely certain there was any left to speak of - and instead of brewing up a steaming hot pot of organic, certified fair-trade French roast coffee from Alakef, I took out the garbage and did the dishes.
What? You thought I was talking about a Man? Oh, ladies... Don't be silly. We all know how I've survived the last year and it certainly hasn't been wrapped in the arms of a handsome man; coffee is where it's at.
He never lets me down; he's always there for me and on the rare occasion that I can't get ahold of him I panic and feel physically ill. Sometimes I wonder if I love him too much. Perhaps I'm even dependent on him? For instance, today: I came home from running errands and his incredibly sexy smell was calling to me, begging me to drop everything and spend an hour with him. In my head I was thinking, No, this is a bad idea. Don't do it, Leah. You'll regret it in a few hours when you're alone and all you can think about is him. And so for the first time in as long as I can remember, I resisted him. I employed the shreds of self-control that I possess - and let's be real, I wasn't entirely certain there was any left to speak of - and instead of brewing up a steaming hot pot of organic, certified fair-trade French roast coffee from Alakef, I took out the garbage and did the dishes.
What? You thought I was talking about a Man? Oh, ladies... Don't be silly. We all know how I've survived the last year and it certainly hasn't been wrapped in the arms of a handsome man; coffee is where it's at.
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