Mother's Day

Last night my twins graduated from Kindergarten.

It was cute. It was corny. It was silly. It was drawn out. It was full of too many props. It was entertaining. It was boring. It was crowded.

I loved it.

I loved standing there, trying and failing to get a good shot of my boys distractedly or enthusiastically singing. I loved having the thought, "Those are my boys. They're growing up so fast, but they're still so young and sweet and awesome. And mine." I loved letting the ensuing feeling of gratitude sink in. Gratitude for who they are. Gratitude for what they're capable of. Gratitude for the health and protection they've been blessed with to make sure they've lived this long;) Gratitude for the hilarity that follows them constantly. Gratitude for the new ways they've opened up the world to me with their people-loving personalities.

But mostly it was gratitude for the privilege it is to be their mother. I am so lucky to be Al's mom. I am so lucky to be Goose's mom. It's a tough, draining, inspiring, entertaining, joyful, intense struggle to be their mom. But what a privilege it is. I'm so thankful for the opportunity to be a mother to these boys. To all my boys.

This Mother's Day time of the year, a bit more than the rest of the year ('cause let's be honest- I feel this way often), has a knack for dredging up all the ways I feel I fail as a mom. It's tough feeling like I can be this ideal in my head, but continually falling short. I sometimes feel like I should just let go of that ideal and be more "realistic." But that would only help me feel good in the meantime while keeping me from progressing and cheating my kids out of the better mom I can be. I refuse to give up on that ideal. And so the guilt continues:) But this year, I feel more hope than failure. I have a good chunk of years to look back on and see progress. I'm definitely a better mother now than I was nine years ago. Give me nine more and I might be pretty good!

Just in time for most of them to be on their way out of our nest...

For now I will concentrate on the things to love right now. Like the way Trooper says, "ooWooooow!" with enthusiasm instead of just a plain "wow." And the way Al and Goose play off each other and talk over each other when they're pretending. Their voices get steadily louder and louder until they're shouting about all the fun they're creating. It's annoying, but hilarious when I step back. And the conflict I see in Jonz when he's caught between wanting to grow up and enjoying the "little kid stuff" with his brothers.

Being a mom to these boys is wonderful and meaningful and amazing.

Happy Mother's Day!!

Ducting

Because venting is so 2013.

I know I haven't blogged in a couple weeks. I'd give viable excuses, but you wouldn't care so I won't bother wasting my time or yours.

You're welcome.

Today was not an "I enjoy being a mother" day.

Today was an "I don't think I'm cracked up for this gig" day.

Poop. Dirt. Goathead thorns. Dirty laundry. Dirty dishes. Runny noses. Filthy fingernails. Lying. Whining. Crying. Pouting. Entitlement. Lost forever jacket and lunchbox. Constant questions.

And if I have to remind any of my children one more time that we don't lie, whine, drink drinks that aren't ours (especially in public or construction zones), eat random things off the floor (especially at stores), ride bikes without helmets, put our feet in other people's face, hit anyone in the face or the head, or have poor hygiene (wash. your. hannnnnds!) I seriously might explode.

Granted, these weren't all offenses of today. But they are the culmination of two days hard battle and years of consistent war.

It doesn't help that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I think we all did.

Today is a grumpy day.

I still love my children. I still wouldn't trade them for anything. I still love my 24/7 job.

Everyone has days like this. I wish understanding that made it easier.

All children are now in bed and I am holding out hope for tomorrow.

Goodnight, moon.

Because it's been too long

I can't win.

I told my boys last night that they could go downstairs when they woke up instead of waiting for me to come get them. Only stipulation: Be super quiet so you don't wake up Trooper.

The talking (my boys' normal volume is two decibels short of yelling) started before they even got halfway down the stairs.

I can't win.

I asked the boys to unload the dishwasher (a daily chore) and was met with protestations galore. "WHY do we have to put dishes away?" (so we have clean dishes when we want them) "Why is it only ever US doing dishes and not YOU?" (oh no you di'int!) "I HATE having dishes!" (you're welcome to eat off the floor) "Goose, get out of the way!" (you might try asking him nicely) "I HATE selling our house!" (so do I, but bad news: you're still going to have to do this at our new house because this is something that needs to be done whether we have a showing or not)

I can't win.

I tried to make cleaning their room a game. Only stipulation: Be super quiet so you don't wake up Trooper sleeping right on the other side of the wall.

You can guess how many seconds THAT lasted. *siiiiiiiiigh*

I can't win.

Christmas was less than a month ago. The pleeeeeeeease-can-I-have-this requests are already back in full swing. Sat one of my boys down today and explained how blessed he is to have any toys at all let alone the massive amount we do have. He about died of grief when he did not get the "black sonic the hedgehog guy remote controlled motorcycle toy" he saw on a shelf today.

I just can't win.

I have hope that all the years past, present, and future of this means I'm going to win in the long run. When my boys have grown into well mannered, down to earth, hard working, respectful men and all that.

But for now?

I'd really just like a win!

Reasonable Rules for Dating my Son

I've seen many, many memes and posts along the lines of rules/applications for dating someone's daughter.

They've got their wit and humor, to be sure.

As a mother of boys, I look at them with a different perspective.  Honestly, I don't like them.

This morning, I decided to see if anyone has responded with a rules/application for dating someone's son.

Thank you, Google, for making that search easy.

AND...I didn't like what I found for dating sons, either.

There's too much undertone of cruelty and anger running through these things:

"I will make you go away."

"Understand I don't like you."

"Don't dress like a stripper."

"She's not your conquest."

"Get a lawyer."

"I brought him into this world.  He's mine until there's a ring on your finger.  Then I will be your mother-in-law."

Sheeeeeesh.

So I made my own.

Presenting Lindsey's 10 Rules for Dating my Son:

1. Speak kindly to him.  He's been raised to speak respectfully, please give him the same courtesy- especially when you two disagree about something.
2. Smile at him.  It lets him know you enjoy his company.
3. You've been blessed with a beautiful body.  Please keep it covered.  Don't make him spend all his time spent with you trying to keep his mind in a good place.  Yes, he is responsible for his own thoughts and actions.  But could you give the guy a break?  Dress in a manner that makes it easier for him to concentrate on who you are and not what you are.  You'll both have more fun this way.
4. Respect his body and his space.
5. He is not allowed to hit you.  Do not take advantage of that.
6. He has been taught to pay on dates.  Do not take advantage of that.  He does not have unlimited funds.
7. I know what you two are writing and saying to each other.  Keep your communications clean and respectful and you'll never hear from me about it.
8. Please be honest and straightforward with him.  He's grown up with brothers and we just don't do mind games and emotional tomfoolery around here.  Don't lie to him, don't lead him on.  Just tell it like it is.
9. Be a lady.  Don't be crass and don't be crude.  He needs you to add something softer and gentler to his life.
10. The Golden Rule.  It's as easy as that.

And just to be fair, here is a sample of Dating Rules I will Teach my Sons:

1. Speak kindly to her.  Always.  Even and especially when she gets snippy.  Sometimes, girls just get catty against their better judgement.  You need to be rock solid respectful always.  She'll appreciate your strength.  But if she's always snippy, it's time to rethink what kind of girls you want to date.
2. Smile at her.  It lets her know you like to be around her.  And it lights up your eyes.  You have such handsome eyes.
3. Date girls who show respect for their bodies, and for you, by covering up.  Always keep a hoodie in your car.  That way, if you pick up a date who is not properly attired you can say, "You should have told me today was laundry day!  I would have waited to take you out until you had enough clean clothes.  Here, take my hoodie so you won't be cold."  If she doesn't think that's funny then puts on the hoodie or changes her clothes...chalk that one up to a bad match and try again next weekend with someone else.
4. Respect her body and her space.
5. If you ever push her around or hit her, you will find yourself in massive trouble with your parents and hers.  Punching and wrestling only works to solve problems between you and your brothers.  You have to talk to girls.  There will be much talking.  Don't let that frustrate you; enjoy this new facet of your life!
6. You asked her out, you pay the way for both of you.  Maybe she asked you out, or maybe she wants to pay her share.  If that is the case, you be polite and at least offer to pay.  Whatever the situation, never go out on a date unless you are prepared to pay for it.
7. I monitor all lines of communication.  The more you complain about that, the more often I will have surprise inspections.
8. You will not play dating games.  If you like her, date her.  If you don't think it's working out, tell her and stop dating her.  There will be no leading on.  Mind games are for sissies.  Around here, we mock sissies; you know that.
9. Open doors for her.  Not because she can't do it, but because it shows her you think more about her than yourself.  Be a gentleman.  If she doesn't appreciate that, then Son, you're dating the wrong type of girl for you.
10. The Golden Rule.  It's as easy as that.

So...there you go.  It should go without saying, but I'll say it anyway- This is only a very small piece of what I will teach my boys about dating.  We may be a way off from dating age, but it's never to early to start preparing, eh?:)

Sticks, snails, and puppy dog tails

Things I am learning to accept as a mother of these little boys:

If it can be said, it must be shouted.  Louder is always better.

"It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye."

Checking pockets before doing laundry will always be an adventure.

"Please give that to me" or "Can you get ____ for me?" is translated as "please throw that at my head."  Always say "please hand that to me."  This does not guarantee it will not be thrown at me, but it does lessen the odds.

The bathroom will always smell...off...I'm sure you can guess why.

Stitches.  Blood, bruises, bonks, falls, bandaids, scrapes, cuts, splinters, black eyes, concussions, and injuries in general.

Silence is silly.  Why be quiet when there are explosion, gunfire, and fighting sound effects to be made?

No.  They can't sit still.  Stop asking.

They will always think it is time to eat, whether we just finished a meal or not.

Nothing should only be used for its intended purpose.  A soccer ball serves just as well as a pretend bomb.  A couch works just as well as a trampoline.

The walls, carpet, furniture, etc. will never look pristine for more than an hour.  (My walls...my poor, poor walls.)

Hitting with a smile on your face is funny.  Hitting with fire in your eyes is a capital offense.

It is not common sense to wash one's hands.

Sleep is for sissies.

And I am a sissy.