The Muddy Shoe Game

My spirited 6 year old daughter has started coming home from school with wet muddy shoes on a regular basis.  Last week I'd had enough.

I asked her, "Really?  Again?  Why? "What could you possibly be doing at recess that would get your shoes that muddy!?!  Well???" I say.

She looks at me, wheels churning, "It's just so wet at recess...too many swamps.  I play this game.  I just can't help it!"

Yesterday, I found out her game.

I went to pick my daughter up from school.  As I was waiting in my graham cracker crumb filled mini-van, I spotted her a distance away.  All of the other children are quickly running or walking away from the school.  Not my daughter.

She is standing on the grass, just off of the walkway, on the precipice of what appears to be a gigantic lake of water--a 10 foot long puddle!  I see her innocently dip the toe of her shoe in and I know there is little hope.  The puddle is beckoning her and, sadly, I am too far away to save the shoes!

Suddenly, she makes her decision.  She leaps like a sprinting deer and bounds straight through the length of puddle!  Noooo!

We have now started the Davis Family Footwear Foundation and will be accepting mud-free shoes and rain boots in a child size 11.

Grateful Mom Goal of the Day:  "I am grateful for my spirited daughter." Now repeat 5 times.

Everyday Goals, Day 7: Do something nice for someone.  Organize--anything!

I Am Jack Bauer

I had an epiphany this morning.  No, not so much an epiphany as an image seared into my psyche.  I am Jack Bauer. 

Today was our usual circus.  I am home, again, with my two sick boys, and I was trying to get my five-year-old, Evie, and six-year-old, Dani, ready for church.

After an hour long struggle to get them bathed and dressed was finally victorious, Dani still didn't have her shoes on. I said, "please get your shoes on" in my loveliest mommy like voice, but she is an oblivious buzzing butterfly.

Dani has now turned some music on and she and Evie are both flitting around the room.   Dani lands and holds very still, while Evie continues flitting.  I say again, more sternly, "Get your shoes on.  It's time for church."  But my butterfly has suddenly taken off again to continue her fluttery performance.

At this moment my lovely Mommy voice is not so lovely. I take hold of her arms and say, "Dani, get your shoes on, NOW-WA."  This is my sternest mommy voice used in accordance with my meanest mommy stare and it is usually effective, at least fourty percent of the time.

It is successful this time and that's when my grand realization came "I am Jack Bauer!"  Now, if you are asking, "Who is Jack Bauer?" this post may not be for you.  I apologize that I have lured you to read thus far.  To my lone reader that is left, (hi Mom) I will now reveal to you  my so called epiphany.

I am one of those people that just hates to be late--I was NEVER late through all five years of college--crazy huh--not once!  That includes trudging through the Idaho snow for a seven am french class (everyday) for a semester.  You would think I had straight As with such a impeccable attendance record, but that was not the case, and is much too long of a tangent for this post.

Since I have gotten married and had kids I can't control everything.  Quite often I find myself running late.  Thus comes my intensity, everyday, to BE--ON--TIME.  I am racing and jumping and buckling from one place to the next, all surprisingly within ten minutes of each other.  I am Jack Bauer.  

My mission is a noble one.  My methods are sometimes questionable and may need to be reevaluated.  I have bribed and cajoled.  I have told my children to go to their rooms "for the rest of your life!"  I will probably even steal some of their Valentine's candy tomorrow when they aren't looking.  All for a good cause--my sanity.  I am not trying to save the world, but I am fighting every day for the safety, well being, and timeliness of my family. I am Jack Bauer.

It's a stretch, but I think my husband is the President on 24, you know, the first one, the good one.  I am working with the President.  He has stopped trying to give me orders.  I am too much of a renegade with my ways.  But we are here to assist each other in keeping evil out of our home.  I am Jack Bauer.

My children are the people I am trying to protect, and I'll be honest, some days, they are the enemy.  This morning an informant told me a small bomb went off in our basement.

Our morning spaghetti bomb

And, just like Jack, I didn't have time to clean up the aftermath, there was a new bomb about to go off just minutes away--I could feel it.  Now where was it.  "Dax-the baby!  I raced for the bathroom and just in time.  Dax had his hand outstretched --just seconds away from another toilet bowl catastrophe.  I rush in and swooshed him out of danger, saving the day...for now.   I am Jack Bauer.

My weapons are less severe, but more vast.  I carry diapers, hair brushes, snacks, water, toys, books, crayons, paper, chap stick, and wet wipes, always wet wipes.  

"I am mother extraordinaire Janae, and these days may be the longest days of my life."  I feel like that sometimes, like I will always have young kids and be permanently in crazy mom phase.  But the logical side of me knows I'll look back longingly and lovingly at these years.  Because, just like 24, all things must come to an end.

Grumpy Mom Goal of the Day:  I will not be so much like Jack Bauer--you have my word.

What have I become?!?

So I just lost my temper with my 6 year old--again.

I feel very defeated--does anyone else feel like they USED to be a good mom.

Things started out so promising--a great husband (my best friend), pregnant with our first child, so sick and scared, but excited for the possibilities.

When my now 6 year old was born I expected things to be magical, that we would instantly bond, and stare into each others eyes for hours...non-stop cuddles and smiles. But, I'm embarrassed to say, things just didn't go that way.

After birth L felt like a foreign object in my arms, a stranger. And she was not a happy baby--cried most of the time, and did not like to be cuddled-ever!

Still, I persisted my good mom ways-I never even looked at her without smiling!   (I did eventually "bond" with her and life did get easier after the 6 month mark.)

To jump ahead a little, 3 kids later, I have slowly progressed from a mom with the best intentions, to a mom who is grumpy and constantly getting after my kids, not to mention my poor husband!



 So, this morning was one of my worst moments--a battle while getting my first grader ready for school, she took off her shoes right before it was time to go!!! That's a little thing right--the shoes--I know it didn't deserve three exclamation points, but that's how I felt. It was the final straw to a stress full morning.

I use to always wonder how those yelling mothers you see on TV go that way--now I know!   For the record, I did not yell, but I used a stern, very loud, very mean sounding voice--I may as well have been yelling.

Did I mention my house is a mess? I think that really adds to the my stressful mood over all. I am not the person I want to be! I am so disappointed in myself! I'm guessing my husband is thinking, "what did I marry?" I need to get myself together.

Anyhow, I'm not all bad, I've been trying to be silly with my kids more often, read them more books--we even made pudding fingerpaints this week.  I just feel I'm seriously messing up in many areas and not being the person I want to be and know I can be.

Vowing to be better today--after breakfast, I need a cereal fix

 Grumpy Mom Goal of the Day: Stop reacting, and keep your cool.
As for me: I will practice patience with my 6 year old.