Source: Time is slipping away
On Monday, my firstborn will enter high school as a freshman.
Wasn’t I just feeding him a bottle and putting him down for a nap?
Weren’t we just in the beginning stages of potty training?
Weren’t we just teaching him how to read a book and write his name?
Somewhere after July 17, 2008 time seemed to blur – that was the day the twins were born and life as I knew it before being a mom to one kiddo evaporated.
Within a few short hours, I went from devoting all of my time to one kid to sharing it between three.
What I would give to have a few moments left where I just had one child. That’s not to say I don’t love my other kids. I do. I just miss the one-on-one time spent between my firstborn and myself.
Sure, we make time to chat, but gone are the days when I was his world.
For more than five years, he was my everything.
He was my errand-runner, picnic-partner, pool-entertainment and my only son.
Then in one quick swoop, I had to share my time, energy and love.
Eight years seems to have gone by in eight seconds.
One day I was watching him get on the school bus at the end of our driveway, crying as the bus drove away. The next, I sat in the back of a classroom listening to all the required requirements for graduating from high school.
Excuse me. No. This cannot be happening! I refuse to believe I am old enough to have a freshman in high school. In my mind, I am still 25 years old. I don’t feel old enough to have a kid in high school.
But I do.
During orientation, I saw his name on the PowerPoint presentation as class treasurer. At varsity soccer games, his name is announced over the loudspeaker as goalkeeper.
I am just a sideline spectator now – watching with baited breath that he makes the right decisions and chooses the right path in life.
And while I am not 100 percent OK with that status, I accept it because after all I was a high school freshman once – 24 years ago – and I’m pretty sure my parents felt the same way.
Parenthood is not a walk in the park. Is it rewarding? Absolutely – especially as your children age and you realize you didn’t scar them for life.
But, before embarking on the longest journey of your life, there are a few things to consider, or experience:
#10: Find a First Grade Math book and start studying it now. Common Core is the worst form of math ever created. Start learning it now, before you have kids. Maybe by the time you child enters first grade, you will understand it enough to form a support group in your kid’s school. You will have a bigger following than the school’s PTA.
#9: Store a container of milk on the kitchen counter. Leave it there for a week. After it’s set out in the heat, open it up and take a whiff. That is will be the same odor you will smell after you realize your kid dropped their sippy cup in the car, and you can’t find it for a week or longer. It will smell like death, and probably, so will your car.
#8: Ask a friend to borrow a bin of Legos. Drop them over your floor. Walk on them without shoes. Walking on Legos is a rite of passage into parenthood. If you can walk over Legos with bare feet and not bat an eyelash, you will survive parenthood.
#7: Borrow a child. Attempt to take a shower or simply go to the bathroom. Listen as that child screams “MOM” or “DAD” 10,000 times in a matter of minutes. That will be how you use the bathroom for the rest of your life. Enjoy showering and peeing in peace now.
#6: Buy stock in the following items: tissues, toilet paper, napkins, Band-Aids, plastic cups, diapers, baby wipes, milk and hot dogs. Those items will magically disappear right before your eyes. And if you think you have “one more gallon of milk stored away” – think again. Eventually, a neighbor may see your FB post about being out of milk … yet again … and they will drive down to give you theirs.
#5: Be prepared to no longer have a social life with friends. Your social life will now consist of playdates, baseball games, softball games, tournaments and birthday parties. The days of making a split decision to grab a nice dinner and movie are gone … at least until you can afford a babysitter and escape for four hours.
#4: Learn how to control your gut instinct to throw up at the first sight of … well, throw up. Kids cannot control their bodily fluids. It doesn’t matter if the trash can is right next to their bed. They will miss and the vomit will end up on their floor. Hold your breath and pray as you are forced to clean up the mess at 2 a.m. (Because that is when kids get sick the most often – in the middle of the night.)
#3: Take a class in negotiation. It doesn’t matter how many children you have … you will be forced to bribe them to do the most mundane activities – like brush their teeth, pee before bed or get dressed.
#2: Take a VACATION with your partner. Once you have children, and you take them with you, it’s no longer a VACATION. It becomes a TRIP.
#1: Before having kids, set your alarm for every three hours. This is how often you will be up once you bring a newborn home – probably less in reality. And you will never get a full night of sleep again.
Melissa Linebrink is an award-winning blogger. Read her blog at http://parenthoodthenewcrazytrain.com. Follow her on Twitter @train_crazy or Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ParenthoodthenewCrazyTrain/
Source: Hey you there: Are you stressed?
My mom broke the unspoken rule of motherhood the other day.
She asked me if I was stressed.
I lied and told her everything was fine.
She didn’t need to know that I can’t even go to the bathroom without someone screaming, “MOOOOMMMM!!!” Most summer days, I don’t shower until 10 p.m. My husband comes home to a ragged, dark-circles-under-eyes, exhausted as hell wife with her dirty hair in a clip, pulling her bangs away from her face. The days I do appear showered and put together, he wants to know where we are going that night.
She doesn’t need to know that every day my kids fight, whine and argue like they are trying to set a world record for “Aggravating Mom the Most.”
She doesn’t need to know that me working from home when my kids are home is getting increasingly more difficult as my kids age. I thought it would be easier, but it’s because my children no longer take naps. Back, long, long ago, I had two to three hours of peace and quiet during the day. That was MY time. A time when if I needed to nap, I could grab 20 minutes and feel rested. If I needed to work, I could. Now, my kids surround me like a bee to a flower. Buzzing, buzzing … all the time.
She doesn’t need to know that rather than be a mom to my 14-year-old son, I am now his personal taxi service for all high school sporting events. Who has practice at 5 p.m. on the weekdays? Answer … my son.
She wanted to know what she could do help ease my stress. She let me know that she is there for me if I needed to talk. I actually told her I have no time to talk – that is what talk-to-texting is for where I don’t need to have a conversation for 20 minutes, explaining why I am stressed.
Besides, no one cares!
A day later, I confessed I was stressed. Who isn’t?
Moms are all in the same boat – making our way through muddied waters called Motherhood. Day in and day out, we experience the same crap. And it doesn’t matter if you are a stay-at-home mom, working-mom or whatever-type-of mom.
Being a mom is stressful enough without adding all the extra shit – like laundry, cleaning, cooking, dishes and sleeping (if we are lucky).
To know that we are responsible for our children is an insane amount of stress – especially if we don’t want our kids turning into assholes later in life.
We have to dole out the chores, the punishments, the rewards, the explanations. We have to set good examples.
We have to make sure they are associating themselves with the right kind of people.
We have to make sure they receive proper nutrition and the right amount of sleep.
We have to control how much screen time they have on a daily basis.
The list is endless.
And it’s not just moms … this goes for dads too. Parenthood is the hardest job I have ever had in my life. Some days, I yearn for my college days where the only person who I was in charge of was me. I’d give anything to pull an all-nighter, cramming for an exam. I’d give anything to have two days to write a 10-page-double-spaced paper on revolution. I’d give anything to live in dorm with 200 other people.
This isn’t saying I don’t wish I was 19 years old again. Because, I don’t. I don’t miss my teens, 20s or what’s left of my 30s (which is six months). Those years are who made me the crazy, loud, fun-loving, honest, hard-working mom I am today.
So, yes, I will continue to pretend everything is fine; and that I am not stressed because no one wants to be weighed down by my problems because we all have them – it’s just how we deal with them that makes us … us.
Apparently my kids never got the memo about my strong dislike for nature.
It should be noted that I live in the country with a creek running behind my house, surrounded by farmland.
For most, this would be paradise. And 80 percent of the time it IS paradise.
Until I start seeing creatures that slither, creep along and otherwise scare the living daylights out of me.
Last night was perfect for a stroll through the park. Trees, fishing ponds and benches dot the two-mile loop of the paved path.
It was perfect until I saw something flopping out of the corner of my eye near the tree-line.
I screamed and did that pathetic “girly move” where I moved my hands up and down in a super quick motion while jumping in place. I was trying to make the creature more afraid of me.
I looked like an idiot.
My friends walking behind us quipped up, “You OK??”
“Yup, sure am … it was a bird!” I said picking up the pace.
Later that same evening, while sitting on our deck underneath the pergola with twinkling white lights, our son presented us with a gift.
The tiniest frog known to man-kind.
I moved away in my chair. My husband gathered the small frog in between his two fingers and put it on my friend’s toe.
She also screamed.
And all of us live within a country-block of each other. You’d think by now we’d know what to expect living out here.
Snakes are slithering through our yards. A craw-daddy with large claws has taken up residence in a mud-hole behind our basketball hoop. The coyotes hold nightly conventions in the woods behind our house.
Two weeks ago, while on her riding lawn mower, my friend ran over a snake.
This week, I almost stepped on a snake in our yard.
And granted these snakes are mostly your small, yard snakes that eat bugs, but a snake is a snake is a snake.
Why did I think moving to the country would be an ideal environment to raise our children?
And now we have tiny frogs that are multiplying in and around our house at lightning speed. And our son has a keen eye to find them.
“Hey mom!! Quick!! GET ME A JAR!”
Then he plopped the frog inside. I thought it was dead … until it hopped … and scared me half-to-death.
I hate living out here in BFE.
The author, Melissa Linebrink, was recently awarded first place in 2017 Ohio’s Best Journalism in the “Best Overall Blog” category. She also placed first in the same category in 2016 for her blog, “Parenthood: The New Crazy Train.”
Source: Motherhood is.