Eating Like Cookie Monster

-

Last week school began. Three kids off to school. They left and took my sanity with them.

It was a bad week. For parenting

But I'm not supposed to tell you that.

I'm supposed to tell you that my life is perfect. I am perfect. I never yell, lose my patience, throw fits or give useless threats. My children are perfectly behaved. They always listen. They never talk back. Their rooms are immaculate and book bags tidy. Just like the rest of their tastefully decorated and photo-shoot, magazine-ready home.

I'm supposed to tell you that I can leap tall buildings in a single bound. I laugh in the face of adversity. I eat stress for lunch. I can juggle making supper, refereeing spats, folding laundry, and milling flour all at the same time.

I always know the right thing to say. I give wonderful gifts and I never forget a birthday

But the truth is granola bar wrappers, smashed Goldfish, sippy cups, and toys litter my living room/kitchen. The dishwasher sits patiently, waiting to be emptied. My empty coffee cup placed haphazardly on a used plate sits on the living room table. Laundry is piling up, even though three loads spun through their cleaning yesterday. The sun peaks through my finger-print smeared windows. Dust dancing through a sunbeam. The living room carpet askew. Beds unmade.

I spend a lot of my time repeating myself. I sigh more than I smile. I'm sure our neighbour's have grown weary of our yelling. My favourite line is "if I have to tell you one more time....".

Oh, and I hate homework.

As a mother I have felt pressure to be perfect. In all areas. So I have lived in that expectation and then become frustrated when things are far from it.

But that was last week.

Who am I kidding, I need to squash that notion almost on a daily basis.

I'm getting better though.

Having a tidy home is nice, but it's not really all that important. What is of utmost importance is simply this- to love God and love others.

And I have 6 others in this home who need to know I care more about them then about the amount of crumbs under the kitchen table.

Even if they do eat like cookie monster.

Comments

  1. Carolyn HicksSeptember 14, 2011 at 11:34 AM

    Here's to having your priorities placed in the right order!

    What else can I say ...been there, done that. Still there, still doing that.

    Oh, and that homework thing .... sorry to inform you but it will be a thorn in your side til the day the last one graduates. Sigh!

    ReplyDelete
  2. ADMSeptember 14, 2011 at 12:33 PM

    Oh joy! Something to look forward to, Carolyn. :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. AnonymousSeptember 14, 2011 at 1:45 PM

    Sounds like a normal household to me.
    Just keep smiling.
    Jane Weiler

    ReplyDelete
  4. AnonymousSeptember 26, 2011 at 9:26 AM

    Love your honesty, Angie! If more people were more honest with each other, I think we'd find that desire for appearing perfect start to fade...because, let's face it, NONE OF US is perfect - not even close! Here's to being real! (And by the way, my living room and kitchen are almost constantly a mess, I can't remember the last time I dusted, and my kids had smoothie popsicle smeared on their faces from lunch time to bedtime yesterday...) :) Bless you, Friend!
    Joy :)

    ReplyDelete
  5. ADMSeptember 26, 2011 at 11:34 AM

    Thanks, Jane, for using the word "normal". Hahaha!
    Joy, thank-you for your encouragement. My children like to wear their food too....along with anything else they touch.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

April 18, 1984

-
Image
I awake in a bit of a fog, only slightly aware of the telephone ringing.  We got in late last night.  Long past our bedtime.  I can hear my father in the kitchen, his muffled conversation floating upstairs to my room.  It's just before 8.  We've slept in.  I'll have to rush to get ready for school this morning.  My father slowly climbs the stairs and I turn to see him enter my bedroom.  He is tired and carries a strange expression on his face.  He reaches my bedside and takes a seat.  He isn't looking at me, but out my bedroom window to the hillside and winding road.  When he faces me again tears have formed in his eyes.  He covers my hand with his and tells me my mother is gone.  His words get lost in a sudden release of grief.  I turn my head into my pillow, tears flowing.  I'm not completely certain of what he's said, I'm hoping I've misunderstood, but know I have not.  He sits for awhile on my bed and we both silently weep.  Without a word h
Read more

Twenty Seven Years

-
Image
My first birthday Normally I see this day coming and anticipate it. Today it caught me by surprise. I love this picture of her, although I can't remember her this way. When I remember her last she looked so very different. I have a picture that was taken a few months before she passed away, but I like this one better. Funny, this picture was taken roughly 10 years before she died. I think I need to come back and post this later, it's still early in the day and I need to make it through before I land in a heap thinking about her..... I'm so thankful for my Mom. For the memories I have of her. I think my favourite memory is from when I was 7, 8 or 9, I'm not really sure. Jamie and I had returned to New Glasgow for a weekend to visit friends we had left behind when we moved. I don't know that I was ever away from her. I do remember vividly Saturday night, I was so lonesome for her. There was a snow storm raging outside and I was sure I would never get back home. Thing
Read more

Two kinds of good bye

-
Image
We are saying good-bye. Packing up our little family. Putting familiar things into cardboard boxes. Sealing them shut with nasty packing tape. Dreading the thought of tearing through that plastic frustration to get our stuff out again. Our life is a bit upside down. The house looks like it's been ransacked by a clumsy burglar who was uncertain of what he should take and what he should leave. Odd combinations of things sit in a pile waiting to be put in a proper place. Normal household chores have been put on hold while we wade through the disjointed contents of our homey house. This saying good bye is somewhat easy in the grand scheme of things. We have control over our going. We get to choose where we'll live, what schools our children will attend, what side of town we'll live on. We can even decide what furniture gets to come with us and what item will be written up in a hastily posted ad on kijiji. We get to leave as a family. Our physical home displaced, if only
Read more