I say it's a big rock in my road of motherhood which keeps popping up and making me stub my toe!!!
Today marks the beginning of Homecoming week for our school. A week of festivites, dress-up days, bonfires, queens, queen wannabes, a parade and culminates with an actual football game sometime Friday night.
My children have long awaited the memo to be passed down every fall about this time, announcing from the cheerleaders the desired attire for each day of Homecoming week.
It just about kills their mama.....but they ADORE this daily costume dilemma.
Luckily, Monday was pajama day.
Smart group on the rah-rah squad, if you ask me.
After an exhausting weekend of watching no less than 6 or 8 college football games on various networks, laundry was exluded from the weekend fare.
So, I made the kids take their showers Sunday evening, put on their pajamas, thus all the work for Monday morning was already complete. Roll out of bed, grab your backpack and load up.
For the record, I did make them brush their teeth this morning before departing for school.
But here's where the kicker comes in. The "milestone" of sorts......
All was well, 3 kids were downstairs, brushing teeth, all pajama-ed up. Two went running to retrieve their robes & gather a stuffed animal to take as a prop......
8 minutes pass and everyone is ready to load the car, when my eyes catch a glimpse of a child in jeans and a t-shirt, heading for his backpack. The eldest son's brain had been on snooze for those first moments of excitement of dress-up day......but it didn't take long for the cool guy cerebrum to kick in......so, he took those pajama bottoms off fast.
Which means, today, I sent only 2 children off in their PJ's. I can only assume that means it's some milestone I'm supposed to embrace.
I hate milestones. In fact, I think I'm about to boycott them altogether.....while wearing my PJ's and binge drinking a 2 liter of Moutain Dew. (Sigh).
6 comments:
Now Now you didn't really think he would come back from cool land to participate in "PJ Day".... No binge drinking you still have two... well for now.
So Sorry, Momma. As long as he still acts like your little boy at home, maybe you can pull through. Don't forget the doughnuts.
Kim, if you think 7th grade is gonna break you...wait on 8th,9th,10th,11th and .... 12th!!! You better resort back to our teenage years and make a run to Simmon's for some Boone's Farm!! (Lol)...At least you know he'll dress up for camo day!! Love you girlie!!
I can't believe that my cheerleaders are now going through what I was going through when I was your fearless(?)leader. Yes, those football players are way too cool to do the homecoming things!
Ang....I'm not even going near a Krispy Kreme today, oh, the agony of it all!! You could have saved me at least one of those brownies you mentioned being so good...chocolate is like wine and good for the heart, right??? :)
Chris....I've got one word for you, actually two..SHUT.UP. I cannot bear to imagine it getting worse....but I know it will. And you and my base from cheerleading (also with a senior-baby) could be kind enough to run out and get a bottle of Strawberry Hill to share...
Mrs. Joy....you were TOTALLY our fearless leader...in my mind you still are...of course that means we are still like 14 or something too!! :)
Love you all, thanks for making me laugh!
Ouch. It's a sting that I never imagined could be so deep and painful. As my two little ones continue to grow up, I feel my self feeling like a mother of preschoolers. I am fearful when I am not near them, I want to spend every moment that I can with them, because I am missing out on something grand that they are experiencing. I can't imagine having a senior or a college graduate or a son/daughter-in-law, or grandkids, or having them move away with their own family, or having them not need me like I need to be needed. It hurts. It hurts deeply. I tear up just thinking about it. But as your mother and mine, as well as their mothers and their mothers, WE all will survive. Not always gracefully, not always without pain, and certainly without tears. Christy when you are at the line, go ahead and pick up a bottle for me, and throw in some doughnuts and some mountain dew, and maybe some prescription drugs. But better yet, maybe we all should tell our Lord our sadness and pain, because he doesn't need the mountain dew or doughnuts, or the Strawberry Hill to get us through it, we just have to ask.
Love to you all.
~Lana
Hang in there Kimbo. I love you.
LLL
Post a Comment