filling my bucket

The other night I was on my way into the bathroom to take off my makeup and fall into bed. Tired, cranky, and a little down, I was ready to snarl at anyone with the misfortune to cross my path. School had started and really I have turned into a short order cook, taxi driver, homework police, and personal secretary to four children and one adult male. Gone were the days of carefree summer days. I didn't notice it at first, I was looking for new lines and grey hairs. There ate the corner of my mirror, written in white window marker was a note; "Guess who loves you mom, lots and lots?......I do, I do.....more than polka dots!"

That was it. That was all it took. Suddenly I didn't feel so tired, and I really didn't care so much about what I looked like. Nor was I still grumbling about the busy day ahead tomorrow. Amazing. I needed someone to put a little water in my bucket, and that simple silly little poem did just that!

I walk alone....

It has happened..... my preteen does not want to be seen with me in public.

Went to the mall last week with the four kids, couldn't help notice that the oldest spent a great amount of time walking ahead or lagging behind. Tried not to take offence as I remember those angst ridden days of teenagerhood. I watched as she met friends and would stop to chat, not really knowing what was expected of me. Do I forcefully introduce myself? Do I hover expectantly waiting to be introduced? Do I just worry about keeping my fourth child from wondering off and not worry about the teens who are doing a great job at ignoring my existence? Alas the path of parenthood is full of these twists and turns of which I am often surprised, saddened, joyful, and just plain confused! Of course I could just assume she was trying stay away from her two little sisters, both of whom display great enthusiasm for anything new (friends, food, clothes, sisters, etc.). Yes, that was probably the problem. I am still cool right? Right?

Swimming with sharks...

Was ceremoniously pushed into the pool today. I am quite shocked at how strong the children have become. My fingers tried to hold onto the rock wall, but I was no match for the ten year old. Had just enough time to yank off my outer shirt before I became airborne. Of course the ruckus didn't stop there, just because I was 'in' the pool didn't mean I had been properly dunked. Tried to get the husband to be my champion, but was thwarted by many arms and legs grabbing and pulling me under. The children could smell blood and the frenzy began. I lost count after going under at least 11 times. Have no idea why my presence in the pool sparks this behavior, as it happens each time I swim. Bret and I have turned into sneaky teenagers with shifty eyes and evasive answers. Our Goal??? To swim without a child clasped tightly to our back and screaming "dunk Mom!!". It is shockingly hard to avoid the children. Must make a mental note to work on upper arm strength, the children are bound to grow stronger and I refuse to go down without a fight.