We're moving. Not far this time. Just down the street and around the corner, but nonetheless, it's packing time.
Yesterday was 'pack all the random decorations and stuff sitting on the table' day. Once I'd cleared most of our surfaces, I looked over to our nativity table. I didn't want to do it, but Jesus is coming with us, so it was time to get him ready to go and pack him up.
I've never paid so much attention to packing a nativity in my life. In years past, I remember just tossing the figurines in some tissue paper and stuffing them in the box hoping they'd fit and be protected enough to come out pretty and perfect the next year, much like every other Christmas decoration.
But... Yesterday was different.
I took Jesus first. I wrapped half a piece of tissue paper around him. Then I took the other half of the tissue paper and wrapped Mary up with him making sure they were positioned such that Jesus was in Mary's arms. I didn't want to separate the two of them. Then I took Joseph and wrapped him with half a piece of tissue, and I used the other half of Joseph's tissue to wrap the angel with him. I placed them in the box right next to Mary and Jesus. I didn't want anything to come between the family and God's angel. Then I wrapped the wise men. Then the shepherd with his sheep. Everything had it's place. Every place had meaning. I continued like this for about 10 minutes. It used to take me two to pack that nativity up.
But... This year is different.
This year I am a mom. Those pieces aren't just a nativity to me anymore. They are a family. They are God's family. They are my family. They represent Ellie's understanding of Jesus and our faith. As a mom, I am now emotionally connected to those pieces.
In other words, I am a mom, and I have officially fallen off my rocker. Somebody come pack the rest of my house before I have to be committed.
It's our life. It's laughable. And now it's here, in case we need to be reminded.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Just Mom
Ok that's it. In 6 hours when my alarm is blaring telling me it's time for another day, I know I'm going to regret staying up to do this... but with all the other things I've got to do before bed anyway, holding my tongue isn't one I want to add to the list tonight.
So... here goes....
(steps up on soap box a little regretfully knowing I should never step up on a soap box emotional and deliriously tired)
Lately my Facebook and Pinterest have been filled with articles about the stay at home mom; how much they do, how awesome they are, how tired they must always be, how little they're appreciated, how much harder their job is than any other job. Like a dummy, I read every single article despite the fact that I am not a stay at home mom. I actually agree with most of what is written in the articles, but there are some pointed, exclusive words that offend me. Those words? Stay at home. And that's what I'm here to address. It's about time we get rid of those words.
The last article/blog/whatever I read (the one that threw me up on this soapbox) informed me of the hardest job in the world. Want to take a guess at what it is?
So... here goes....
(steps up on soap box a little regretfully knowing I should never step up on a soap box emotional and deliriously tired)
Lately my Facebook and Pinterest have been filled with articles about the stay at home mom; how much they do, how awesome they are, how tired they must always be, how little they're appreciated, how much harder their job is than any other job. Like a dummy, I read every single article despite the fact that I am not a stay at home mom. I actually agree with most of what is written in the articles, but there are some pointed, exclusive words that offend me. Those words? Stay at home. And that's what I'm here to address. It's about time we get rid of those words.
The last article/blog/whatever I read (the one that threw me up on this soapbox) informed me of the hardest job in the world. Want to take a guess at what it is?
Stay at home mom.
Alright then. Thanks. That's great for us working moms. Our job didn't make the cut.
I guess what those kind people told us 6 weeks post partum as we went back to work was right, "Somebody else is going to raise our kids."
Awesome.
I wish I had listened to those kind people 2.5 years ago. I could've saved a whole lot of effort and energy. Oh well. Now that it's been confirmed over and over and over again on the internet, let me just sit my big working mom butt down and take a nap. My job is easy.
Oh wait... I just got off work and now there's a little one to pick up from daycare and feed and reassure that even though I didn't spend every second of the day with her, I wish I could have. There's reprogramming to do. Every bad habit Little Johnny shared at daycare must be broken quickly before it's too late. Every time out of the day must be addressed. Every good deed of the day must be recognized and praised. Then there's laundry to do. Dishes to wash. Floors to scrub. Toys to pick up. A child to bathe and read to and cuddle and love. Spaghetti to wash out of MY hair. Oh hey... the last bit of that sounds really familiar. Oh wait... That's because I just read that list of to dos in the stay at home mom praise article.
Imagine that.
Stay at home moms and working moms doing equally difficult tasks! Huh. Maybe us working moms need a little praise too. Maybe there's no need to exclude us in your sweet little 'stay at home mom' article.
You want to know what the REAL hardest job in the world is?
Being a mom.
Did you catch that?
Not a stay at home mom.
Not a working mom.
Just a mom.
There's no need to differentiate when you're praising and recognizing the hard work moms do, because we all do the work. Praise and recognize us all. We all have our battles. It's time they are all appreciated. Equally. Not just the ones that stayed home.
So, to moms:
You're awesome. All of you. Those that work. Those that stay home. If you're present and trying every day as hard as you possibly can whether you mess up occasionally or are the definition of perfection, you, my dear, are awesome. You are appreciated, and what you do is recognized. Keep it up. And ignore any article/blog/whatever that excludes you. You're too good for it anyway.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Our Truck, Pocket.
Ellie, Scott, and I live about two hours away from my family now. During the summer, Scott works weekends. We go to church as a family Sundays, but other than that, every weekend is girl's weekend.
Ellie and I go to visit my family fairly frequently. It's a quick enough drive that it's easy to drive up Friday night after work and come home Saturday night in time for bed. However, the drive is ridiculously boring. I try to come up with cute games to play; find the cows, look for birds, wave to the trucks, identify the road kill. But like I said, it's a boring drive.
Luckily this last trip we had some entertainment. I called one of my best friends, Quinn, to catch up. She wasn't available, so I left her a message. Not 5 minutes later, my phone was ringing.
When I first answered I assumed I was losing service. "Quinn, are you there? Hello? Can you hear me now?" No reply. Then I heard her voice in the distance and knew we'd been butt dialed.
With nothing else to do, I decided it was urgent that we let Quinn know she'd butt dialed us so she could hang up. I mean, we sure weren't about to hang up. Of course we had to scream so she could hear us in her pocket.
This went on for about 35 minutes. Like I said, this drive is ridiculously boring. Finally the call cut off.
Immediately after we stopped yelling....
Whoops.
I said no and explained the 'joke', but that came 34 minutes too late. Scott's truck will now forever be Quinn-delicious's Pocket, Pocket for short. Although Scott preferred the old name of Meredith, I'm pro-Pocket. Road tripping in a pocket is just way more fun than road tripping in a truck.
Ellie and I go to visit my family fairly frequently. It's a quick enough drive that it's easy to drive up Friday night after work and come home Saturday night in time for bed. However, the drive is ridiculously boring. I try to come up with cute games to play; find the cows, look for birds, wave to the trucks, identify the road kill. But like I said, it's a boring drive.
Luckily this last trip we had some entertainment. I called one of my best friends, Quinn, to catch up. She wasn't available, so I left her a message. Not 5 minutes later, my phone was ringing.
Caller ID: Quinn.
Real caller? Quinn's butt.
When I first answered I assumed I was losing service. "Quinn, are you there? Hello? Can you hear me now?" No reply. Then I heard her voice in the distance and knew we'd been butt dialed.
With nothing else to do, I decided it was urgent that we let Quinn know she'd butt dialed us so she could hang up. I mean, we sure weren't about to hang up. Of course we had to scream so she could hear us in her pocket.
"Quinn-delicious. Help. We're stuck in your pocket."
This went on for about 35 minutes. Like I said, this drive is ridiculously boring. Finally the call cut off.
Immediately after we stopped yelling....
"Mama, we in Quinn-delicious's pocket?"
Whoops.
I said no and explained the 'joke', but that came 34 minutes too late. Scott's truck will now forever be Quinn-delicious's Pocket, Pocket for short. Although Scott preferred the old name of Meredith, I'm pro-Pocket. Road tripping in a pocket is just way more fun than road tripping in a truck.
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