Reality Is...

Sometimes, reality isn't always pretty. In fact, sometimes...reality is down right horrifying. When you set out on the journey of parenthood,  rarely do you  think "I'm totally going to drop the ball and this is going to get messy".  We don't start out believing that raising children often times resembles guerrilla warfare, as I once heard it put, but then reality hits once you're in the throws of it and you realize you have no idea what you're doing.  Don't get me wrong, parenting is completely worth every second of fleeting sanity because that's all the insanity is...fleeting.  During each new day we get redemption, love and grace and it helps to pull us through all the really tough stuff. As a parent, I can honestly say that I love my job as a mother and every day I try my hardest to improve from the day before. I adore the blissful hugs and kisses I get from my little man (they are the magic that keep me going), the small victories I experience daily like seeing my boy master a concept, manage a conflict appropriately or I myself handling a situation better than the last time, the undying love I have deep in the root of my being for my child and the fun I share daily as we play, learn and grow together. These things are why motherhood - parenthood, is amazing. And, as much as I'd love to say that all the smiling Facebook photos of us running through fields of wildflowers and sharing organic, homemade granola bars while picnicking at the park are completely accurate in my reality as a mother....I'd be lying through my teeth....and moms, it's OK that your days don't always resemble a Norman Rockwell painting and perhaps you fall very short of the Martha Stewart, Pinterest Queen, 1950's housewife ideal that you envisioned yourself embodying when you thought of what you would be like as a mother (these are just my archetypes, each one of us has our own). I don't want to get into why it's not about whether we live up to these unrealistic visions, I just want you to know that it doesn't make you any less of a fabulous mother because you don't have it all together all the time and realize that there is more to raising a wonderful child than keeping a spotless home or preparing gourmet meals. Let's chat about the days where I've worn my pajamas all day up until I shower that night at midnight (let's not even talk about my beauty routine, or lack there of), where dinner for my family consists of  leftovers and mildly healthy ones at that,where my child watched far too much TV that day than I would EVER find acceptable and where I lost my patience at the most insignificant things reducing my surety in my mothering abilities to a faint whisper. That being said....reality is, sometimes we just need to know we aren't the only ones checking ourselves into the looney bin by 7pm and we aren't the only one's questioning our resolve and strength.

So...for some perspective, a laugh and a little beacon of hope that you are not alone....here is a wrap-up of my afternoon with two toddlers and a baby: 

It's a mad rush after naps to pack a to-go bag full of snacks, wipes, etc. and dresss my 3 year old, G, in all his winter gear (coat, hat, gloves, boots).  We need to hurry to get out the door and to pickup Princess from daycare. He takes it all off and screams that he doesn't WANT a coat. We negotiate. Winter gear back on. He wants a penguin hat. I find it. He screams...not THAT penguin hat, another hat that's not a penguin but in fact, a bear. Whatever. I put the "penbear" hat on him.  Then he has to potty. Undress. He refuses clothes and I chase him butt naked for 10 minutes around the house. I win! Re-dress. Baby is crying. Make faces, sing a ridulous song, cuddle. She's happy. Try and force her to drink ALL of her bottle so she's not hungry for the car ride. Fail. She spits up in my hair. Whatever. I pull it into a pony tail. Change her. Dress her. She poops. Undress her. Change her. Re-dress her in her outdoor gear. Put her down so I can grab the bags. She screams. Grab a hat and blanket. Haul kids to van. Attempt to open the God forsaken broken door quickly with baby on my hip. Fail...it's frozen. Crawl through other side with the baby. She screams. Forgot lollipop for G. He hurls himself down into the snow as a fervent reminder. Sweet. Pick up 900lb kid and attempt to bend his stiff as a board body to fit into car seat. Another win! I find an old lollipop in van. Bribe my child for good behavior. He agrees. Eats lollipop. Good behavior ends. Tantrums begin.  Baby decides she hates the tress, windows, people and life. Put on "The Wheels on the Bus" and listen to it repeatedly the whole half hour per toddler demands. Traffic. I need coffee and a sedative. Train. "Oooh, look G a choo-choo". Happy squeals and entertainment for 5 minutes. Bye bye train. Whining begins. Crying commences. Arrive at daycare. Pull out my baby wrap. Strap it on outside in the freezing cold. Try and keep baby warm by contorting my body to keep half in the van while attaching her. Cover her with blanket. "Oooh, where'd baby go"; peek-a-boo! Let G out. He takes off like a kid with a death wish in traffic. Grab his arm. Drag him into building. Fake smile at staff. Begin to sweat from all the stress. See Princess. G runs down the hall. Wrangle him. Go back. Obtain Princess. Walk to another room to grab her crap. Today she has a giant suitcase and bedding. Awesome. Lean awkwardly down with baby to put coat, hat and gloves on Princess. Where's G? Ah. Playing lick the pottys in their bathroom. Isn't that special. Demand kids to hold hands on the way out. They see a water fountain. They yell for drinks. NO! Drop blanket off baby. Blanket recovered. Now, someone held someone's hand too tightly. I have one free hand because I'm holding a suitcase and a baby on my body. Manage to get to parking lot. Kids slip on ice. Drop blanket. Blanket on. Kids refuse to get in van. More bribes. It's too cold for this crap. Twisted harness. Impossible buckles. Everyone is finally in. Baby starts to cry. G screams. I yell. Baby screams. Put on "The Wheels on the Bus". Contemplate banging my head off steering wheel. Train. Traffic. Finally home!!!

....and that my friends, is reality.  Mother on miraculous moms, mother on. :)