I Guess I Drank the Blogging Kool-Aid

I'd never considered blogging before a few days ago when I realized I needed an outlet from the everyday crazy that goes on in my life.  I don't like keeping a journal because my handwriting is atrocious and journals don't have a spelling/grammar check.  I would've never been able to spell "atrocious" correctly had I been writing in a journal.  Anyhow, I like to keep a record of what's happening on a regular basis and since I hate handwriting, blogging seemed like my only choice.

I always pictured myself being the kind of mom that had perfectly dressed kids that never argued, a spotless house, a clean car and having energy to burn at every minute of the day.  That all seemed pretty attainable until babies two, three, and four came into the picture.  Don't get me wrong, one child kept me pretty busy, but nothing like four little girls in one house!  Now my days are filled with changing diapers, dropping off and picking up kids at school, listening to at least one hormonal meltdown from our 11-year-old, breaking up a fist fight between our four and two-year old, dishes, laundry, etc.  Some days I really can't remember if I brushed my teeth that morning.  Thank goodness for Extra Sugar-Free gum.  My clothes are wrinkled most of the time and the only time my hair looks decent is the day I get it cut.  I remember to mop the floor when the bottoms of my girls' feet are black and I remember to dust when I turn on the ceiling fan and dust flies everywhere.  I always thought I'd be like June Cleaver.  Her house was spotless and her laundry was always washed, dried and put away.  She vacuumed in high heels and pearls, which is insane.  Supper was always ready when Ward came home (sorry, Ryan!).  Truth is, I'm nowhere near J.C.  I go to work at my office to get a break from my work at home.  My job as a mom is much harder than any office job and it's even harder when I try to live up to the J.C. standard.  I think about my mom and how she handled five kids. She was no June, either. I don't ever remember her vacuuming in heels and pearls and I remember piles and piles of laundry eating up our couch.  But, I remember her cuddling up on the couch with me to take a nap.  I remember her always being happy to see us kids when we came home from school.  I remember her always being cheerful and in a good mood, even when she probably wasn't.  She made me think she was.  I like to think about her rocking my little brother to sleep at night and how warm and cozy her hugs still feel.  I like to think about how pretty her hands are how she's used the same blue comb since the late 1980's.  I love that she tells me I have a beautiful singing voice, even though I'm so tone-deaf that it embarrasses me to even think about how awful my voice is!  I know to her ears it's beautiful.  I don't care that our house was messy from time to time growing up.  I don't care that my clothes rarely matched when I was a kid.  I like that my mom didn't care about that stuff either.  That gives me hope that someday my girls will look back and not care that their momma was no June Cleaver.  Thanks, Momma, for teaching me to keep things in perspective. I love you.  Happy Mother's Day :)