Confessions in Munchkin Land
- My car is a mess. A certifiable health hazard. But it comes to the rescue more times than I can count. A trip to the mountains, forgot long-sleeved shirts? I have boys or girls clothing. Forgot to put on shoes before leaving the house? Do you need size 3, 7, 10 or 12? I wish I were kidding.
- As I doled out sandwiches mid-errands yesterday, I realized I was a sandwich short. Instead of the pb+j the others got, Ashlynn made do with the 4 vanilla cookies. Don’t feel sorry for her, she was more than happy to make the sacrifice.
- I’m sure that any leftover lunches were promptly thrown on the floor of the van. Hence the first confession above. I’m terrified to step back and there and see what new mold the Littles have scientifically created.
- I was inspired by Courtney’s wreath making tutorial and convinced that this time would be different, I trotted the three younger Littles through Hobby Lobby while I pretended to know what I was doing and what I was looking for. I failed. Miserably. We left with some wheat stalks and 2 scarecrows. They were
haphazardlycarefully placed in a ceramic vase by our front door. And THAT is the extent of my crafting experience. It’s further convinced me that I’m missing the Craft gene.
- I have great intentions when it comes to bringing meals to families with new babies. However, great intentions do not translate well to actions. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve forgotten to bring a meal on a night I was scheduled to do so. Its quite humiliating actually. Thankfully, I remembered last night. At the last minute. It wasn’t the thoughtful, home cooked meal I wanted to bless them with, but at least I remembered at all. Oy. Thank you for being so gracious about it, Brock and Kristen! And congrats on your beautiful baby boy!
- I’m a spender. I married a spender. It’s a horrible combination. If I pass on anything to my children, it’ll be to marry the opposite of what they are. There’s something to be said for balance. Especially in finances!
- I’m a natural consequences kind of parent. If my child is repeatedly told not to tip back in their chair and continues to do so anyway, I figure that gravity will be a better teacher than I. And 9 times out of 10, once they’ve fallen and gotten hurt, they won’t do it again.
- And lastly. I reposted a friend’s Facebook post yesterday, and I’m reposting it here too. It bears repeating:
"You know that mom in the store pushing a screaming toddler in the cart while a wild preschooler is touching everything in sight and antagonizing the screaming toddler? The mom who looks defeated, and isn't even trying to stop the madness? The one you look at disapprovingly and list all the solutions to her bad parenting in your head as you walk by? I was that mom today. And I have the same list running through my head, only each of the brilliant and "obvious" suggestions are crossed out in red ink, having already failed me. Practice trumps theory. You see, the thing is, most moms are intelligent problem-solvers, just like you. And we want it to stop more than everyone else in the store combined. So save your looks. Save your mental commentary. Just finish your shopping trip and enjoy your quiet drive home. Thanks."