Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Letting it get the best of me.

When I've asked multiple children multiple times to empty the trash in the evening
and the next morning I blindly throw a coffee filter away without first checking if it was actually emptied
and the filter falls to the floor and grounds go everywhere because
it wasn't emptied,
...that's when Motherhood gets the best of me.

When I've given fifteen minute warnings
and ten minute warnings
and five minute warnings
to let everyone know how close they are to walking out the door for school
and we get to time-to-leave time and still
no one is ready
and there is still a mad dash
and everyone winds up being late out the door for the third day in a row
...that's when Motherhood gets the best of me.

When I go into the laundry room to find socks for one child and discover
the other child has, 
in the process of doing a craft the day before,
taken clean clothes off the ironing board and folding counter and left them
all. over. the. floor mixed in with the dirty clothes
...that's when Motherhood gets the best of me.

When it's bedtime and we go to tuck everyone in and I discover that
the sheets that have been soiled the night before are still on the bed
because I forgot to pull them off that morning and put them in the washer, and because heaven forbid anyone else would be able to pull them off the bed and put them in the washer,
and I wind up having to make a make-shift bed on the floor just so everyone can go to sleep on time
and the mattress can only just now dry out
...that's when Motherhood gets the best of me.

When I step on the lego in the middle of the floor in the middle of the night
with my bare feet,
the same lego that I had pushed out of the way just a few hours ago and somehow it has magically found it's way right back into the path of where I walk,
and it makes me stumble so I lose my balance and step on more legos that have magically found
their way into the middle of my path even though it has been made very clear that they need to
not be there... ever...
...that's when Motherhood gets the best of me.

But when my youngest son gets home from school
and says he is sleepy and just wants to snuggle for a bit
and we lay on the couch with our legs intertwined and the cuddly blanket pulled up
and we're quiet for a long while
and then speak in hushed tones of Storm Troopers and Rosie the Tarantula and the squirrels out back
...that's when Motherhood gets the best of me.

And when I'm tucking my daughter into bed and she tells me of her day
and speaks to me of her dreams
and reads to me lyrics from the songs she writes in her journal
and asks if sometime just the two of us can go out shopping and maybe to Starbucks, just us two
...that's when Motherhood gets the best of me.

Or when my second-born shows me the picture he drew at school of a very detailed sort of
imaginary thing
and tells me the story of what the thing is doing
and how the thing came to be
and details of the thing's whole family
and I see his eyes light up with the beauty of imagination and creativity
and then he says, "I made it for you, Mom,"
...that's when Motherhood gets the best of me.

And when I'm standing in the kitchen and my oldest comes in quietly behind me
and slips his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head,
because he's so much taller than I am now,
and just holds tight for quite a few seconds
and then says in his deep, masculine voice, "I love you, Mom,"
and then stays there a few seconds more before walking away to whatever he was doing before
...that's when Motherhood gets the best of me.

Because I'm learning,
as I walk this crazy, disaster prone, joy-filled road
that it's always better to let something like this get the best of you.

I'd rather it get the best of me now than get to the end of the road and realize,
looking back,
that I wish I would have let it get more of me.

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