My Mom Isn't Perfect

My mom isn’t perfect. She has some faults. She’s addicted to tall glasses of whole milk, ice cold cola (which she likes to drink out of double barrel straws), and all kinds of chocolate, which makes her waistline a little bigger than it probably would be otherwise. She loves to shop at thrift stores a little too much and her home isn’t nearly big enough to house all her treasures. She talks too loudly and too long, and sometimes the only way to stop her is to rudely interrupt. She’s overly sensitive to what others think of her and will cry at the drop of a hat. She’s sometimes bossy, often stubborn, and always opinionated.

My mom isn’t perfect, but I still love her.

She may not be perfect, but she tries hard. My mom always gives everything her all. She is the most selfless person I know. She gives and she gives and she gives, past the point when she couldn’t possibly give any more. She and my dad both had to work full time jobs in order to support their large family, but it was her utmost desire to stay at home to raise all five of her children. It breaks her heart to this day to talk about the pain she felt when she left for work every morning, handing her little ones over into the care giving arms of another. She made that daily sacrifice for me, my brother, and my sisters so that we could have the priceless gift of each other. As we grew older and money stayed scarce my mom always made sure her kids had more than they needed, all the while never keeping anything for herself.  If she was given a gift certificate for her birthday she would use it to buy something for someone else. And on the rare occasion that she’d be lucky enough to squeeze a box of Hostess Ding-Dongs out of the grocery budget, she would graciously dole out the treats to us kids until the box was empty. Looking back, I wish I’d never begged for one and let her enjoy those snacks all by herself.

My mom isn’t perfect, but she is giving.

She may not be perfect, but she means well. My mom has a heart of gold. She does everything with the greatest intentions and always wants the best for her family. My mom has showed me nothing but unconditional love. When I was five and I decided that I wanted to be a tomboy, she loved me through it. She let me wear boys’ shorts to school and cut my hair short and she bought me dinosaur toys for Christmas and threw me a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle birthday party. My childhood was filled with love. I remember the day I was cut from the high school tennis team and I came home in tears, sobbing all the way to my bedroom. I was afraid that my mom would be disappointed in me since she was a big tennis star in her high school days, but she found me in my room and scooped me up into her embrace. She assured me that I would find a different way to blossom, and the next day she took me to join the high school marching band (in which I made many treasured memories and lifelong friends). That kind of encouragement, support, and love is always in abundant supply in my mom’s heart. My life is filled with examples of ways she fostered my interests and ambitions. She genuinely desires for her kids to know happiness and does everything in her power to help us find it.

 My mom isn’t perfect, but she is loving.

My mom isn’t perfect, but neither am I. As moms, we do the best we can with the gifts that the Lord gave us. After that, all we can do is pray that others will show us mercy and grace to forgive our shortcomings. It took me becoming a mom to understand. I fall short in many ways, on many occasions, and for many reasons but I try hard every day to show my children abundant love and strive to teach them how to love abundantly in return. I hope that one day my kids will appreciate the good I’ve done in their lives and forgive me the bad.

My mom isn’t perfect, but she taught me how to give and how to love. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

My mom isn’t perfect. She’s addicted to chocolate and her waistline is a little bigger than it would be otherwise, but it makes her hugs that much more soft and warm. She loves to shop at thrift stores too much, but it makes her the right person to ask for help in finding a good deal or a rare treasure. She talks too loudly and too long, but it makes her the perfect person to call when I’m feeling especially lonely. She’s overly sensitive to what others think, but that is exactly why I knew it would mean a lot for her to read this. I want her know how much I appreciate everything she is, and everything she isn’t.

My mom may not be perfect, but she’s the perfect mom to me.

Our Adventurous Camping Adventure

If there’s one thing I’ve learned as a mom in recent years it’s that everything is adventurous when you do it with three kids- even something as simple as a quick stop at the grocery store. So, by all accounts, when you go on an adventure with three kids you are actually embarking on an adventurous adventure. That’s adventure multiplied by adventure. Which equals? An exponential amount of adventure….Heck, yeah, that’s a lot of adventure…. Challenge accepted!  I’m sure that when some people heard I was taking Josie, Jamie, and Johnny on their first camping trip, while 24+ weeks pregnant, they thought I was nuts. But clearly I’ve never been one to shy away from a good adventure…. Adventurous adventure, that is.

I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid. I would never attempt an adventure of this magnitude on my own. Rather, our weekend camping trip was well planned out and thoroughly coordinated in advance with my sister, Joanie, and her husband, Daniel. They found us a nice camping spot within a two hour drive at a little place called Thousand Trails that was well equipped with family- friendly amenities. Joanie and I spent all of last week swapping phone calls, making sure we weren’t forgetting anything. Joanie and Daniel made the reservation and provided the tent while I brought the food and fire wood, and so forth. After all, the secret to a successful adventure is preparation.

Feeling fully prepared and ready for whatever adventures awaited us, we arrived at our camp site on Saturday afternoon. The best part about camping with young kids is that, in their eyes, everything is exciting:

Stacking fire wood and building a fire,

sleeping in a tent (which Jamie lovingly referred to as “my hideout”),

The "hideout"

Afternoon tent nap

washing with a pump and bucket.

The boys spent a lot of time at this water pump

Most of our time was spent accomplishing these rudimentary activities. There was also a lot of sitting around,

Coloring with Aunt Joanie

 lounging,

Hanging out with Uncle Daniel

 and playing in the dirt going on.

Getting dirty!

 Probably the kids’ favorite activity of the weekend was our two trips to the campground’s swimming pool.

Maybe it’s the pregnant woman in me thinking with my stomach, or maybe its for the sake of nostalgia, by my favorite part of the weekend was roasting s’mores.

Enjoying a delicious s'more (and looking quite pregnant)

Ooey, gooey, goodness!

It all sounds like fun and games, but remember what I said about doing even the most simple things with kids? Yep. Adventurous, to say the least. Over the 48 hour period that constituted our camping endeavor we managed to amass quite an array of “incidents.” Each one has it's own story, but for sake of time I've been forced to summarize. There were three bloody noses and two vomit clean-ups, two minor burn injuries and three tick removals- the worse of which was a tick that had to be removed from Jamie’s scrotum- also two blisters and another two thorn removals, not to mention all the bug bites that were too many to count. To top it all off we had a camp chair catch on fire, I had to have my car battery jumped twice, and our tent almost collapsed on Josie in the middle of the night. Nobody ever said that adventures aren’t dangerous.  

But, needless to say, we all made it home from our adventure alive and well… except for the burnt camp chair, of course. We’re all scratching our bug bites like crazy and still recovering from two nights of sleeping on the hard ground, but I think in a couple days, after all the “boo boo”s are healed, we’ll look back at this adventurous adventure as a successful one. There’s no doubt that it was filled with picture perfect moments!

Good Days

Every once in a while I need a good park trip to remind me how much I love being a mom. All that fresh air and those wide open spaces bring out the best in my kids, which brings out the best in me. 

There’s nothing like a trip to the park after days and days of rain. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday last week brought us a lot of rain, which is rarely welcome in a house with three crazy kids. I started to lose it after the tenth episode of Curious George on Netflix, the fifth time being asked for a snack, and the third dump out of the super hero basket of toys. It’s always that same basket of toys!

At this point, when I’m bending over and piling Spiderman, Thor, and Captain America back into the basket AGAIN, my patience begins to run thin and, for the life of me, I can’t remember why on earth I ever thought I enjoyed motherhood. So I was praising the Lord when the rain let up on Thursday, just enough to make a trip to the park possible.

The boys were just as excited to get out as I was. (Josie had to go to school.) I could see it in their faces, plastered with ear to ear smiles and mile deep dimples.

Another advantage of going to the park after three days of rain is that all the bugs are out. Jamie and I discovered some clusters of bugs (worms? caterpillars? I don’t know. They’re all bugs to me) hiding in the nooks of a climbing rock wall. Jamie felt like he’d discovered buried treasure. He cuddled and coddled the bugs for the next hour, even taking a handful with him down the slide and trying to feed them a piece of his bologna sandwich when we took a break for lunch.

After we exhausted the play power of the swings, the slides, and the worms, we set off on a little nature walk. Much to my amazement, Jamie and Johnny actually did most of their own walking. Jamie led the way like a brave adventurer and even stopped me a few times, insisting he check to see if it was safe so that I wouldn’t get a “boo boo.” Johnny waddled happily behind his big brother, often stopping to admire the sand and sticks in his path. They seemed as if they could walk ‘til they reached the ocean.

We did eventually have to call it a day, but ironically we found ourselves back at the same park again on Saturday. It was nice that Josie was able to join us the second time around.

It is such a joy to be a mom to happy kids. Those smiles and dimples are the jewels in my earthly treasure chest. When we drove away from the park on Saturday and Josie said from the back seat, “We had fun at the park. That was a really fun day!” and Jamie shouted, “Yeah!” in agreement, I felt filled with love and blessings. My cup runneth over. I need good days at the park like these to cling to on those other days when being a mom feels less joyous and more mundane; on days when I am bending over, piling the super hero toys back into their basket for the fourth, fifth, sixth time. In fact, it’s raining right now and….yep, there it goes….I just heard Iron Man hit the floor. Thank God for good park days!