Running out of Coffee in the morning is a warning sign...

  I must like living in the fast (carpool) lane. If my plate was paper it would have collapsed with all the things I pile on it. When we booked a trip to Arizona last Fall, I thought I had enough time to get ready. I don't think 9 months could get anyone ready to fly with 4 little boys.  Back then, we didn't have a puppy. Now we are boarding 2 dogs but need to pay double (obviously) but also because Wally can't be exposed to other dogs because he has not had his final immunizations.  "I didn't plan on when he was going to be born" I explained to Don.   But just think, in a week I will be baking myself in the sun in my parents retirement community where the median age is 73. Ahh this is the life.
The new puppy is only one more thing to add to my morning and makes me about 5 minutes later than usual. Five minutes that grants my boss the satisfaction of scowling at his watch when I walk in.  I'm not a air traffic controller, I work in publicity, and last time I checked, there wasn't a life or death situation going on prior to 9 a.m. And its nothing new, I have come into work every day at the same time. What he doesn't realize (even after 5 years) that I am not just hitting the snooze button.  For the record, I have NEVER hit the snooze button.
Today the odds seemed to be stacked against me.  At 4:55 a.m. my alarm went off and I took my dogs out, I hope my neighbors never decide to gaze over the fence at this time, because if they did they would see me shivering in a tank top, underwear and slippers.
I then return inside to put on my workout clothes that I laid out the night before, apparently forgetting that I hadn't shaved my legs in a week. Oh well, if someone at that gym is that close to me to notice than maybe they will learn to give me my space next time.
There is a woman at the gym who I have declared as my archenemy. Some how everyday she pulls out in front of me, drives too slow, backs into her parking space (a huge pet peeve of mine) causing me to have to wait.  When we actually get into the gym she has decided to hang out on all the machines I want and by the time I am done working out I walk into the locker room right when her naked moon is rising. Good for her for being at the gym, but if my butt looks anything like that when I am 45 I may look into butt implants. Where did it go?
By the time I arrive home,  Don is up and he has attempted to wake up the boys .  I am the only morning person in my family and this is very apparent.  I walk in to see only a peacock of hair sticking up over the couch. Fin went to bed with his hair wet again and even a hose wouldn't bring it down. I decide to let it go.  A morning in our house isn't complete unless there is an argument. This morning Finegan was upset that I packed him a sack lunch in a sack. They are going on a field trip, and I had instructions to do so, but he insists that he can bring his lunch box.  Parker is getting attacked by Wally. After reciting our daily breakfast menu Parker said he doesn't know what there is to eat.  Its not hard kid, its the same thing ever day, and I make the executive decision for him to get it himself.  Jack is screaming "Fin called me a tattle tail!" Fin called me a tattle tail!",  he is incriminating himself, but he doesn't realize this.
After about 10 minutes I instruct everyone to get upstairs and brush their teeth. Parker is dumbfounded with this request because he hasn't eaten breakfast yet. I wonder what in the hell he has been doing for past 10 minutes? Don had a  b.s school corporation meeting so the older two take the bus. I send them out at 7:25 a.m. 5 min. prior to the buses arrival. When they are gone I am left to get myself and the younger two ready. Jack has been preoccupied with making movies of himself on imovie. I will deal with his narcissism later.
Oscar is still sleeping and not thrilled to get up.  I get him dressed and put on his new Tom's shoes I got him. They are very cute with little crossbones all over.   He is saying nana on repeat because he only has been eating bananas lately.
I get myself ready..sort of. If I had one wish I would wish for a stylist and a hair dresser at my house every day. My clothes would be laid out and there would be a guy (possibly a Ryan Reynolds look alike) there waiting to do my hair. Because I don't have this, I am forced to wear what I think is kind of cute based on a vague memory of an outfit I saw on Pinterest and my hair is going to be in a knot on top of my head.  Or.. a chignon, yeah that's it.
I realize that Wally has run by me and this can only mean he has something he shouldn't. Oh look, its Oscar's new shoe.  I find Oscar and put it back on.
At 8:15 the two older ones saunter into the house. Wait, shouldn't they be on a bus to school? Just then a neighbor calls and tells me the bus never showed up. I can't tell you how much confidence this gives me with our local school system. Our neighbor offers to take the boys if he had room in his car but....he doesn't, so I offer to take his girls.  Why not, I have a minivan after all. Now I have 6 kids in my house.
For a brief moment I glanced in the review mirror, is that Michelle Dugger I see in my reflection? Finally I'm in the car with my 20 kids securely fastened. At this point I would reach down to have my first sip of coffee, but today we ran out, that should have been my first sign.  I look back, Oscar's shoe is missing again, I look to the garage and see that I have run it over. Why did these shoes cost so much if they can't stay on his feet! I don't think I can return a run over, chewed on shoe now. I drop the neighborhood off at school first, Bye  Jedidiah, John, Jordan, Jerusalem etc..( that is a Dugger reference in case you missed it).
I drop the baby off second, make very small chit chat with our daycare lady so I don't seem rude, but as I'm leaving she tells me I have a fuzzy on my butt. What? It turns out it isn't a fuzzy, its a half chewed on button (damn puppy) and she tells me she can't let me go to work like that, so she vanishes to the house for 20 min. to find scissors to cut the button off my butt.  A nice image for the kids.
I'm on my home stretch and I have to drop off Jack. We arrive to his school and the teacher says "oh mommy looks tired" First of all, I hate it when someone other than my child calls me mommy. Secondly, that is not a compliment.  I explain that I'm just not in the mood to go to work today. She explains that she isn't either. WAIT. She teaches MY son, what do you mean you don't want to be there? It is a privilege! I'm almost gone when another mom comes in and explains that she is going on the field trip. Oh crap. I forgot he is going to the same field trip place Finegan is. How could I forget this? They fight like crazy but somehow can't wait to see each other on a field trip. I forgot a sack lunch, well, I have a granola bar, that should work.  Jack asks me why I can't go on the trip, I explain I have to work, I don't get into the fact that his daddy is a teacher and makes a ridiculous salary compared to the professors I work for, but we can save that for his bedtime story.  The teacher comes to my defense and says " Mommy needs to go to work" to which he says " but you can look at youtube at home later" In his 4 year old mind that is what I do all day at work. What he fails to recognize is that I also look at facebook and pinterest and on occasion yahoo too.
I leave and I find some solace in my walk from the parking lot to my office. That is until I see a nun and carrying a lunch bag that looks identical to the one that I am missing. Apparently when she found Jesus she found my lunch bag too. I consider it a gift from me to her, she doesn't make money after all and whatever she does make she gives to the church, so in away I too am giving to the church. For a brief moment I wonder why I didn't become a nun and briefly fantasize that if I was a nun my style or shaving my legs would not be an issue.
I decide that I'm late anyway so I will stop in the campus Starbucks quickly. The line is wrapped around the hall. I make the executive decision that I don't care and I will wait.  I stand in a line of texting drones.  While passing the pastry case I realize that I haven't had breakfast, so I'm going to treat myself to a big ass muffin. I sacraficed my granola lunch/breakfast away to my son so I'm going to splurge.When I finally order my non-fat triple shot latte I realize I have forgotten my wallet.  At this point I want to ask God why has he forsaken me.
I literally get teary eyed and ask the Starbucks girl if I can please please pay her tomorrow. I am a desperate mother who is starving and caffeine deprived. She pauses. I'm about to go into full on sobbing when she agrees. She doesn't realize this, but she just may have just saved my life.
By that time I have arrived at my office door to see my boss looking at his watch. I want to explain myself, but before I can say anything, I realize that my muffin is far more important.
The lesson learned is if you run out of coffee first thing int he morning it can only mean one thing, go back to bed.  And with that I tapped into my inner Michelle Dugger and waddled on into my office.

The Day I Became a Mom

 It was nine years ago that I became a mom. I was 25.  When Don and I found out we were pregnant it wasn't the joyful exuberant jubilation you see in the movies. We had been married for a little over a year and wanted this, but it just seemed really real, and very odd. I instantly started driving more carefully. Telling our parents was hard too because now it was evident that we were having sex.  I had a great pregnancy. I didn't eat whatever I wanted, but my downfall was Giant Roast Beef Sandwiches from Arby's, (daily) which is kind of weird considering that I didn't eat meat.  We knew he was a boy and we named him Parker, which was Don's grandmother's maiden name.  We were going to name the baby Parker if it was a boy or girl, so that was pretty easy.  Thankfully he was a boy, because as a friend pointed out, it is very close to Porker, and if the girl was heavy set, it may be a problem.
I took Lamaze class and planned for a natural drug free birth. We had been given the book Baby Wise which was the closest thing to an owners manual I can think of. I strongly recommend it. Don studied that book like it was our baby bible. By the time I had the baby, HE was showing me how to breastfeed.
My due date came an went and I tried everything to make this baby come out. I ate spicy food, walked, you name it and nothing helped until the doctor "stirred things up a bit", his words not mine.
Soon the contractions started coming. It was the worst pain I had ever felt. I tried every position I learned in Lamaze within 20 seconds and nothing worked. I was bent over a medicine ball and grew more and more annoyed with Don's need to scream out how far apart my contractions were.  I had imagined getting a little beautified before going to the hospital, maybe put on a little make up for the glowing after shot of the baby and me. In actuality, I didn't bother to put a brush to my hair.  After putting on my gown, which was like asking me to climb mount Everest, I laid down in the bed and didn't want to move.  By the time they checked me I was 3 pathetic centimeters. Seriously? I thought I was at 12.  It was at this point when I called Don over to me and asked him to lean in close. It was then that I apologized.  " I'm sorry that I am leaving you like this. I love you, raise Parker well"  He just looked at me, not sure to get a nurse or comfort me. I continued " this is it, I see the light, I'm dying"  And I swear to this day that I believed it, felt it and WANTED it. This birth was going to kill me.
I had made my peace with the world.  Finally the anesthesiologist appeared.  Any desire to go natural had dissipated and all I wanted was to be put out of my misery. Once that huge needle administered a high better than LSD I was cool. In fact a little too cool.  I couldn't feel anything and was even giggling, then sleeping, then giggling again. Against the nurses orders Don was feeding me ice chips.  Note* listen to your nurse, she knows what she is talking about.
When it was time to push I alternated vomiting with pushing thanks to the ice chips.
The doctor finally arrived along with a resident. We are always the couple who get the doctor in training.  Don always says " we are all about education" I say that in my manly Don mimicking voice which he despises.   Whatever, invite the entire hospital in here to look at my vagina.  The doctor said that my cervix had swelled to mass proportions and he couldn't get the baby out and we needed to have a c-section.  He had to deliver another baby and would be back to do the surgery.  To be honest, I was kind of relieved. The thought of pushing this baby, who more than likely had a huge noggin out of my body scared me.
By the time the doctor returned the swelling had gone down enough to push my cervix aside and vacuum our son out of my body. " PUSH WITH YOUR BUTT NOT YOUR FACE!" the doctor screamed. I felt like a rock star everyone was chanting my name, telling me I was great and finally after 10 minutes I gave the final push to become a mother.  The resident almost dropped Parker, but the doctor caught him. His cord was around his neck, Don was cautiously watching. Even after 22 hours, it all happened so fast. I was suddenly pumped, the adrenalin was electric. Finally Parker was screaming and placed on my body.  There are no words to describe that feeling. Within seconds my entire purpose had changed.  I was so glad I didn't die.
Finally I was holding the concept of a baby that I had been dreaming about for months and he looked nothing like I had expected.  More beautiful than words. He had a head full of jet black hair, chubby cheeks and a dimple right in the middle of his chin.  Whatever was going on around me or to me was unimportant.  I was alone with Parker in the world for a moment when I noticed Don. He took Parker from my arms and held him up to his face. Don started to cry and told Parker, " you are my best friend" I don't know why he said it and he doesn't know either, but it is what it is.

I didn't sleep for the next 24 hours. I was just too excited.  I wish I could have told myself to get over it because when we went home, the lack of sleep would take its toll on me.  On the first night we were all sitting on the kitchen floor at who knows what time in the morning crying. Each one of us.  Me wondering who thought  I could ever be a mom. Don wondering why the hospital let us take a baby with 0 knowledge on what to do with him when we got home and Parker crying because he had gas...but we didn't realize that.
I knew that this day had been a major game changer. Everything I thought I knew, I didn't.  In a single moment my purpose was clear and that was that my purpose was no longer important in comparison to his.

Graduating from Mommy to Mom.

My poetic mind always has grand ideas of how things should go.  For example, when I walked down the aisle I imaged everyone gazing at me as I beautifully floated along like a cloud, in actuality I walked so slow they had to play the trumpet voluntary twice and had I known I would be ugly crying all over my veil, I would have stuffed a tissue in my strapless gown that I spent the entire night pulling up.
When I brought my third son home from the hospital I imagined his older siblings rushing to see him with open arms. Instead I walked into a complete meltdown over a bowl of goldfish which resulted in me directing an F-bomb at my mother-in-law and staying in my room for 2 days. Crying that I could never bring him home for the first time ever again.
This trend continued when we decided to surprise the boys with a new puppy.  The three older ones were at a basketball game, we took Oscar with us to pick up the puppy in the country.  As soon as we pulled out of the ATM ( cash only breeder) Oscar puked. We thought it may be a fluke, like he choked on milk or something. Unlikely and Wrong.  It happened again and he Don had to surrender his sweatshirt for the 15 min. ride. A shirtless husband is nice, in the right circumstances and this was not one of them.  I opened the window to air out the van as we continued our pursuit to puppy ville. When we got home I placed the puppy in a box and the boys were so excited and and asked if we could keep him and if we could name him Paul. Yes and No!  After the 10 minute excitement dissipated, I was left alone in the room with a puppy and a baby who smelled like puke.
Oscar's eruption was the Earth quake before the tsunami of vomit hit our house. Within 48 hours 3 of us would experience it. At one point I had a husband hugging a toilet in one room, a baby being held over the kitchen sink and a new puppy crying for dear life for its mother. Not exactly the picture I had in my mind...
We survived the week and last night I was told (at dinner) that there was a third grade skating party at 5:30 which was in 20 min. that Parker HAD to go to or he would apparently, die. I had been home from work for less than a half hour, but its not like I had anything else I could possibly want to do.
As we held hands walking into the rink my first born and I crossed an invisible line that I fear we can never return back.  He pulled his hand away and asked me to not talk to him in front of his friends. He called me Mom, which was honestly the first time he didn't refer to me as Mommy. It was as if we were suspending the disbelief that he, being 8 years old drove himself there.  What a sham, they all rode there and most of them in a booster seat.   I agreed however and placed myself on the carpeted cube.  Soon someone needed my help, I wasn't sure who because I was suppose to act like I didn't know him. So this stranger who I gave birth to needed my help tying his skates. Skates he has never worn or attempted to skate with..ever.  I happily tied his skates (which he had to change because he got the wrong size because he doesn't shop for his shoes). He stood up, took a couple of strides and did a comical fall which resulted with him flat on his back. This fall would have earned us $100,000 on America's Funniest Home Videos.  I know you are not suppose to laugh at your children, but I could not hold this in. I desperately tried to, which only resulted in an outburst of HA!  I quickly turned and walked away to the dismay of another mom who had a cell phone on her belt which was proudly displayed thanks to her tucked in turtle neck.   I knew he wasn't hurt, so what is wrong with letting him bite the dust once in awhile?
One of my favorite past times as a pre-teen was to go to the roller rink.  It was cool. But nothing can jade a memory than seeing it as an adult.  How are these places legal? All these dark carpeted corners, in the dark, its a pedophiles playground.  I watched as kids skated around and remembered how I could do the speed criss crossy thing all while listening to L' Trimm. (In case you have forgotten, they sang the 88 hit called Cars that go boom from their GRAB IT! album.)
Now I watched my son cling to the wall mouthing the words to LMAFO's sexy and I know it. First of all, how does he know that song and secondly, SEXY? Just the previous day I overheard him tell Wally (the new puppy) that he was sexy. We may need to review appropriate adjectives soon.
After the lap that likely took an entire song he returned to me to spew hatred towards the sport of roller skating. How lame it was and how he needed a roller walker.  I'm embarrassing, but rolling around with a roller walker isn't? Fine. I paid $3 to rent this lame piece of plastic and he confidently went back to the stampede of roller skaters.  With in three seconds he has falle, this time, forward and flipped over the walker landing on his head...again, hold back the laughter.
After another song he returned and said he hated the roller walker and wanted a hot dog.  There was no way I was going to let him eat at this place. How do they even have a food permit? And I paid 3 hard earned dollars (which could have paid for a portion of my latte) for that walker and not to mention 2 hours of my life and he was going out for another 3 songs.  Period. He stormed off, or he attempted to with choppy baby steps back to the rink.
I watched as little girls skated by and shook their hips with more lucidity than I ever have, and come to think of it some of their chests were more than I will ever have too.
How did I not notice how bored my parents were at all of my functions? I looked around and every parent had a blank stare as if we had all been hypnotized by the disco ball.  Finally it was time to go.  As we got into the car to ride home I asked him if he had fun.  "No".  So I realize that he had a different idea of how things were to go, and it didn't involve him lying flat on the floor instead of being a speed racer.   He did learn a lesson and that is that he have no desire to step foot in a roller rink again, and by all accounts, I couldn't be happier.  When we got home he said, "Thanks Mommy", and with that I was reassured that I hadn't lost my title as Mommy, at least not quite yet.