You. Guys. The phone rang at 7 a.m. and I was dead asleep. It’s spring break week, the kids were up until like 10 last night and Brian and I were up talking until literally 1 a.m. about some different stuff. So the phone rings and I jump out of bed, positive it’s an emergency and it is GORDON AND STAN from our statewide Christian radio station and I can tell from Gordon’s voice that we’re live on the air. My first thought is that I forgot I had scheduled something with them, but I can’t think of ANYTHING. So Stan starts doing this intro for me- who I am, my qualifications for giving advice to moms and then he says something about how they’re just calling me to see if I’d be willing to share the best piece of advice I’d been given or I’d want to give to other moms. I think I said something about self-care (which YES I am hugely passionate about and if I’d had a week to prep, I think I would have come up with the same answer), but I was so panicked I’m not even totally sure what I said. And Brian is “shhhhh”ing me the whole time because he can’t figure out what’s going on and he’s trying to keep me from waking up the kids. I hung up the phone and he says, “Why were you doing your radio voice in the bathroom?” I explained and then we just sat there and laughed for a long time.
(overheard outside the exam room)
Dental Hygienest: And how old are you?
Bethany: I’m 7. And I’m adopted.
People Who Are Trying to Make St. Patrick’s Day A THING,
Please stop. I didn’t want your Elf-on-the-Shelf, I don’t want your Leprechaun-in-the-Pantry (or whatever it is you’re proposing). I will put green on my kids, eat some corned beef, talk about the actual St. Patrick and MOVE ON. Stop trying to make this happen.
I’ve been talking to my agency about how hard it is to find homes for older kids in foster care. Something about that conversation struck a nerve, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Today it hit me- what I wouldn’t give to have been able to spend all those teenage years with the 19 year-old currently in my home. Those formative years, hard years, teaching him how to drive, how to talk to girls, how to have good boundaries, how to deal with pain, to celebrate his successes. . . I loved my years with him as a little kid, but what a gift it would have been to get to be with him for all those adolescent years, too. While in my heart he’s one in a million, I know there are lots of other kids out there who need the love and support of a solid family. And what they give in return? I don’t even have words. Loving and being loved by a teen who needs you is a beautiful thing. More of you need to experience it.
You know that moment when something great or terrible or challenging or exciting happens to you and the first thing you want to do is call your mom? The next time that happens, I want you to imagine you aged out of foster care without a solid family base of support. Who shares your sorrows and your joys? You NEVER outgrow the need for a family. Could you be that family for somebody who needs you?
Me: (Puts on lipstick)
Kids: WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
Okay, is it too late in life for me to admit I don’t understand duvet covers? Why do I need to buy a blanket for my blanket?
Me (back to my kids, on my phone, trying to voice-to-text message my husband): Buy Velveeta and corned beef. (see that it put La Vida instead of Velveeta) Buy VEL-VEET-A and corned beef. (more problems) BUY VELVEETA and CORNED BEEF!
Josh: Mom, we don’t know how! Why are you yelling at us?
#whoops #sosorry #dontjudgemygroceries
Facebook reminded me of this conversation I had with one of my kids six years ago. It still makes me laugh.
Me: You must have been a tired boy! You wet the bed.
Child: Well, that’s what tired boys do. Did the babies sleep good?
Me: No, do you see my pillow in your room? That’s because your brother needed me to be in the room so he could sleep because he was sick.
Child: Wait. . . did you wet my bed?
Me: No. I did not wet your bed.
Someone please tell me that at some point I won’t be picking out new bedding for MY bed based on what color/pattern will best hide dirt, chocolate, drool, and Doritos dust. . .
Me (picking him up, twirling him around, singing): You’re done with preschool! I missed you SOOOO much!
Him (singing back to me): I missed you! I just farted in your hand!
Carrie (3): MOM! You forgot you jammy purse!
#soclose #diaperbag #morepajamasthandiapersthesedays
Maralee sits down to write a blog post: Writing flows naturally, she feels energized, writing communicates what she intended to communicate, then she feels at peace.
Maralee sits down to “journal” for her emotional health: Writing process is frustrating, she feels angsty and pent-up, writing is embarrassingly bad, she deletes everything she wrote and then wants to smash the computer.
#WHY #Ihatejournaling #Ihavenoinnermonologuejustadialogue#writingandjournalingareNOTthesamenomatterwhatthecounselorsays
During the Billy Joel concert my husband and I looked at each other at the exact same moment and started singing, “Ryan started the FIRE!” These are the moments you know you’ve found your soulmate.
#Thesimplethings #TheOffice #hegetsme #thatswhatshesaid
I accidentally spilled vanilla extract on my finger while baking (I am not good at baking) so I wiped it behind my ear, perfume style.
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May your child with a stomach bug, always be the child who knows how to make it to the toilet.
And may your own gag reflex be stifled until the crisis has passed.
–traditional Maralee blessing
I say: “Hey Guys! We have our church small group coming over tonight, so I’m trying to keep the living room tidy.”
They hear: “Hey Guys! The living room is tidy, so now would be a great time to invite five neighbor friends inside for a massive Pokemon battle.”
#soclose #notevenmad #loveourneighborkids
I love interacting with random kids at the library, at the grocery store, at church SO MUCH that I’m pretty sure at some point you’re going to see a super unflattering picture of me that some mom is passing around to warn you about a potential child trafficker she narrowly managed to avoid.
I woke up super stressed about the fate of our nation in light of the imminent nuclear power plant meltdown in California. . . and then I remembered I fell asleep watching “West Wing” last night.
“Mom, need poo-poo paper.”
#soclose #toiletpaper #makessense#toddlerlinguistics
Yesterday my daughter asked me to explain how insurance works so I used the example of a house fire and then she started crying because what if OUR house caught fire and, “I don’t want to lose all my stuffed animals! They’re too precious to me!” Tears, sobs, full on breakdown.
. . . My daughter’s emotional range is a mystery to me. I find it 50% inspiring and 50% terrifying.
#gladIgettobehermom #learningsomuch #teachingsomuch
Messaging a new foster mom while making dinner = burned grilled cheese