I Need You.

You know the sound of the voice and the urgency in the tone.

Mom, I NEED…

So many times it makes my skin crawl, my ears cringe, and my body sigh… Now what?

Mom I Need…

“Mom, I need you, my head hurts and I cannot stop shaking.” I opened my eyes to see my tall child standing over me, I blinked a few times to be sure it was not a weird dream, I climbed out of bed and found him some ibuprofen.  He was experiencing his first migraine.

When I went to wake the kids for school I heard, ‘Mom I need more Tylenol, my head still hurts.”  J has had a headache for over 2 weeks now, we are trying chiropractic care to see if that is the source of the headache. (Turns out he might have a mild concussion from a basketball game, we are waiting more testing to be sure)

Last week was the 100th day of school for little A.  “Mom I need a costume to make me 100 years older.”  So the night before I was in Party City buying silver hair spray.  We were a little late getting to school, as I was hurrying her along, she replied “Hey I’m a little old lady, we can’t go that fast” I quipped back, “just don’t break a hip.”image

I got a text right after drop off. “Mom I need you to go pick up the pictures from Sam’s Club.”
I dropped the pictures off with O’s Art teacher so they could prepare her portfolio.

Back home both boys were laying on the couches now, trying to watch tv.  R said as long as his head did not change elevation or he did not move his eyes than his head did not hurt.  Sitting down to watch with them we saw C park his dad’s moped in the gate, he came limping into the house.

“Mom, I need your help, I was run off the road and I need you to help me.”  I jumped up to clean and care for the wound.  It was pretty gross, not huge but the 2 spots on his knee are pretty deep,  It is very nasty, and I was sure he would be sore the next day.  He was run off the road by a black Lexis, they did not stop, he crashed into the median, no other driver stopped.  My poor boy had to get his sore, bruised, and bleeding self up off the ground, upright the moped, and then come home for me to clean it for him.  While the road rash is minor on one leg, the left knee looks terrible, it is deep and bruised, bleeding, and will take a very long time to heal, multiple layers of skin were removed.  I am so very thankful that he is okay, sore, bruised and bleeding but will be okay.

“Mom I need my uniform washed”

“Mom I need to go to the chiropractor in a few minutes”

“Mom I need to be at school at 6”

“Mom we need snacks for our trip”

Mom I need…

 I can appreciate that I am needed all the time.  I was reminded that my kids still need their mom for the little and big things.  I was the one the injured kid came to, I was the one who rescued the dirty uniform, and I was the one who made sure they did not need anything before they left for their trip.

It is nice to be needed, I just need to remind myself that I should be thankful that they come to me still, and they all still need me.

Go hug your kids and look for the thankful in being needed.
jen

 

 

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Oh, You’re In The Club Too?

You know the feeling when you are struggling as a mom, and you see another mom struggling.  That is the mom club.  We are united together the imperfect, who fiercely love our children even when life is messy and loud.

Some how it feels better to know we are not alone.

We see the teen sigh and roll her eyes as she gets out of her parents car.

We watch the boy walk as far as possible from his parents, as though they have cooties.

We talk with another mother whose child eats as picky as your own child.

We commiserate with a mom whose schedule forces her to miss class activities.

We all feel the pain, but in all honesty as much as we don’t like our own loud and messy life, it is nice to know we are not alone.  The mom club.  Welcome to the club, the parenting is HARD club.  Where one day, I am told that they will appreciate us, and tell us that we did one thing right.

Go hug your kids, and next time you see a mom who is having a hard parenting day, give her a smile, let her know that you are in the same club!
jen

p.s. if you are not yet in the club, just hang on, we will welcome you when you have that hard day!

 

 

 

The End or Torture, also knows as P.E. class (or gym class)

As I type this, the kids are in bed, most of them before bed time, it was a New Year Miracle, tomorrow is our first day back.  Am I ready, nope, oh sure lunches are half packed, and uniforms are washed, so technically we are ready.  The P.E. uniforms is clean for the 10th grader, and there is no love lost on the fact that in 2 weeks he will be finished with PE until he goes to college.  We have not yet told him he will be required to take a physical education class, or two, once he gets to college, we don’t want to burst his happy little bubble.  He makes no claims to be athletic, and does not even pretend to like the class.  He will still end up with an A because, while he does not like P.E., and he is not gifted athletically, he will try his best in class, participating and dressing out.  I think he might have a uniform burning party in 2 weeks.  Even though he is not athletic, each year his P.E. teachers tell us they love having him in their class, he is funny and surprises them with the things he says.  Sure he will never lift a weight again, and I am positive he will never run laps around a field if he can help it, but, he still had fun in class.  He celebrated when he could bench press the bar, and when they added weight on the bar that was the first thing he shared that night at dinner.  He is proud just to have survived 11 years of P.E. every single school day he has had P.E. and he survived!

Did you jump on the resolution band wagon?  What are you going to do?  I need more pictures of everyday things, so I resolve to take a picture a day.  I know that one day I will look back and see I have missed things, so I hope in taking pictures I won’t forget those little things.  (not going to lie, so far… it is iffy, at best.  I’m shooting a 50% on this goal)

So you know the whole set of cute little wooden sings or magnets or banners that say DO WHAT YOU LOVE or FOLLOW YOUR DREAM or some such sign, supposed to be inspirational.  Well O hates them H A T E S them!  Every time we see one she complains.  Do What You Love?!?!?  Are you kidding me, what if you love doing things that are illegal, what if by Following Your Dreams, you are making immoral choices?!?!  So every time we go into Hob’Lob and she sees one of those cute little signs she complains. Every time.

Go hug your kids, they need your love!
jen

 

 

I Thought It Would Be Fun.

As you all know, O is leaving for college in 1 very short year.  That is it.  I only have one year left before my baby girl leaves us.  I am heart-broken about it, I cry all the time, and I know, from experience, it will only get worse as time goes along.  We go out together as often as we can.  I am trying to savor every minute I can with her.
Earlier this summer, we went to a very nice flea market, antique fair.  We really enjoy antique/junk shopping together. I purchased an enamel ware pot and lid, I am so very attracted to them right now, and every time I buy one I find a use for it, making me realize,
1 I have too much junk
2 I need more enamel ware.
When we were finished, O asked if we could stay out and shop a little more.  I dropped R and E back home, they were babysitting cousin G.  O and I continued on to our favorite antique/retro store.  They have the wildest things, a wood and glass mermaid coffee table, an entire set of snow-white garden gnomes they are almost 3 feet tall, and a 10 foot metal rocket ship.  I found another enamel ware square dish for steal.
After buying that small enamel container we were finished, O wanted us to continue shopping and not go home.  I asked if she wanted to go in a store I had driven past many times I told her the name, “fairy something, or something fairy” was all I could remember.  I thought it would be fun to go inside and see what they had, from the window it looked very interesting.  I thought it would be fun. We drove up to the curb and parked.  When we walked in I stopped short, like a comedy routine, she bumped into me and I stumbled a step.  This was not the sort of store I wanted to go in.  It was a witch store.  Or more actually they help those who want to reach a new spiritual level.  Um, it was a witch store.  Full out wiccan.  They had stones and smells, and potions, they had cloths, and candles, they had some sort of dream catcher thing, and costumes, they had rooms for reaching that higher level.  A kind man came our of a curtained room, where he was sitting in a circle with other like-minded people, to ask if we needed help, {ummm yeah we needed help, an out, we needed a polite escape} I explained that we had driven by many times, and often wondered what was in this store.  He answered me, but my ears were ringing I could not hear him because I was trying to think of an escape. {They were not holding me captive by any means, I just wanted to get out of there.  I believe witch craft is real, but I also believe it is from Satan, and I wanted out fast.} We made a quick walk around, to be polite, laughed quietly at the awkwardness of the situation, and made our exit.  I am sure that the people in the store had a good laugh at us.

A few days later, we were all going to the library we drove past that fairy store, O joked about the kind of mom who takes her innocent daughter in there.  R asked what kind of store it was.  I said “a fairy store and by fairy store I mean wiccan store.”  Little A looked at her sister and asked O “Hey want to go to the fairy store” R asked what they sell, we told him some of the things we saw.  E asked what wiccan is, I explained it is witch.  A piped up “it is an evil witch, wait it is an evil fairy, I want to be wicked, O will you be a wicked fairy with me?”  O was laughing, and answered “sure I’ll be a wicked with you.”  A rubbed her sisters arm and said “You are my favorite sister.”

Never a dull moment.

We have been going out on Wednesday nights for a few months now.  I started out going alone, but soon O was coming along.  We don’t talk, we just sit in quiet and peace.  Sometimes we read, or she works on pictures on her computer, or does homework.  We do talk sometimes, but usually we are quiet.  We like it that way.  A few weeks ago we went to Village Inn, my mom says the pie is the best ever (I say it was good, but not the best ever.)  We went O was reading Tess of the d’Urbervilles for her summer reading for her English class.  (She still has one more book to read, but it is much shorter)  O hated Tess, she read/listened to it read to her, it took 24 full hours of reading/listening to get through the book.  She is glad it is over, and even more glad I purchased her copy in the clearance section of Books A Million.  So as I was saying we were at Village Inn, eating breakfast at 8pm at night.  We were in a booth, we were both reading, we were quiet and content.  I rather tall, skinny, man came loudly into our area, he was stretching, like a runner after a race, talking quite loudly to the waitress, he then loudly announced to her, and everyone in the area he was going to go to the bathroom.  We could not help but notice him, and his party of 3.  After we finished eating we resumed reading while waiting for our pie.  The man was talking to his group about his knee, and lowered his knee brace to show the group, then he lifted his leg right next to our table he ripped the knee brace off his leg and stretched his toes wide, like Ariel did when she discovered she sold her soul for feet, only this was right near our table.  O noticed the white knee soft brace fling up and thought he was taking off his socks.  She looked up and caught my eye, we started to giggle, at first it was quiet, but the more we tried to stifle it the funnier it became, it was such an odd thing to see an adult yank off a knee brace and flex their toes next to a table.  We could not stop laughing, and those who know me, know I can get quite a cackle going.  We had tears in our eyes, we were not looking at each other, we were taking shallow breaths to get control.  The server for his table came to get their orders, he looked at us and said “I’ll have what they are having,”  We were only having a case of the giggles at the preposterousness of the event.

Never a dull moment.

How about you?  Ever go into the wrong store, and get surprised?
Go hug your kids, they need your love!
jen

21 Years Down and Many More to Go

Happy 21 years
21 years
7670 days
That is a long time

I have been married longer than I was single.
I have been married more than half my life.
I have been married for a long time.

What does 21 years of marriage look like?
21 years of walking together
20 summer vacations
19 home remodel
18 years of parenting
17 musicals or play seasons attended and survived
16 somethings???
15 different somethings???
14 years of being outnumbered
13 summers of basketball camp
12 seats in our van
11 years of pool upkeep
10 well 1095 weeks of marriage
9 years as assistant principal
8 beach vacations
7 vehicles
6 overseas trips
5 new couches
4 surprise pregnancies
3 different addresses
2 broken bones
1 dog

countless:
hugs
kisses
I’m sorry
I love you
quiet moments
moments of chaos

That is what our 21 years look like…  I would not trade it for anyone else’s 21 years.

go hug your kids and look back on the good in your life.  Please tell someone how important they are, life is just too short.

jen

 

Pomp And Circumstance

It happened.
We have a graduate, I have pictures to prove it.
WARNING: Picture overload ahead.
Notice that I have no pictures of the graduate and his parents.  You know the ones who had many sleepless nights, interesting conversations with his teachers, and threats of dire punishment if he did not at least make an attempt to work to his potential.  How I have no pictures of the 3 of us I will never know.  I am hopeful that someone somewhere has a picture of the 3 of us.

No matter how I tried to avoid the inevitable, time marched on and the man-child marched to Pomp and Circumstance.IMG_0021Chil-laxing before the ceremony.IMG_1339Keith has done the welcoming and opening prayer for the past 9 years.
It was kind of different when it is your own child. Many people said they heard a catch in his voice.IMG_1354One of C’s good friends was across the aisle from me.
IMG_1358One last lesson.  Chosen by the class, he delivered one last lesson.10402833_10202661222944542_6913061250129936727_nOn his way to collect honor roll award.IMG_1364Lining up for diplomas.  10406944_10154250755915232_2983695069347511575_nA hug from his dad.IMG_1368This is how it looks when your eyes are filled with tears.10367602_10154250757815232_8657659414630601770_nAnd just like that he is an alum.IMG_1387Pictures with his principal and the headmaster.IMG_1402Pictures with his grandma, and English teacher.IMG_1397Pictures with his other grandma.IMG_1386Pictures with his dad and grandpa. IMG_1405Pictures with PS.IMG_1395Pictures with O.IMG_1394We told C he had to let R hug him.  R was funny he wanted to know for how long, we told him 5 seconds,  He counted.IMG_1399Favorite Sister.IMG_1408Pictures with sweet A.IMG_1415And Pictures with J.

Just like that it was over.
We are now the proud parents of a high school graduate and a college student.

I’m going to say it again.  Hug your kids because when you blink it is over.
jen

Broken Computer and Other Thoughts

My computer died.

Almost 2 weeks ago, it was running slow, so I used the power button and shut the whole thing down.  Only when I shut it down, it did not ask the normal questions.  The screen instantly went black.  I wondered, waited and restarted it.  Only when I restarted it, the computer asked me to choose a language.  I knew that was NOT good.  I called out to Keith, who took a turn gave it to C who fiddled for a little bit, questioned me and said, “it is broken”.

I took it to a local computer repair place, explained all I did.  They gave it their best shot…

They called me.

It is broken.

My only hope is to take it to APPLE and see if some super smart tech can do magic.  So now we are off to the big city to the west of us to see if they can fix it.

I am trying not to panic, I am trying not to be cranky, I am trying to remain calm.  But I am most worried about the pictures.  I can get a new computer, I cannot relive the moments of those pictures.  I am sick with worry about them.

I was using my iPad and there is just no way I can blog on it so today with much to share this week I hijacked Keith’s home computer.  I can’t put pictures on the blog until I find where his pictures are.

So that is what I have been up too.  What about you? Ever have your computer die and what did you do to rescue your pictures???
jen