And the award goes to…

And the award for Mom of the Moment goes to….ME!

That’s right. Me. And here’s why.

1. My babysitter/friend bagged out on watching my kids so I could help deliver packages to the women’s shelter for the Angel Tree at church. So, I took the girls with me. This is my third year heading up the Angel Tree and the first time to deliver gifts. (see: minivan, awesome one) We took almost 200 packages to 15 single moms and their kids. This “house” looked like a Dickensian Orphanage. Ugh. How sad. I wish I could have done more. But, it was a teachable moment about giving to others. We talked about it all the way home. Ella gets it. Or she repeats it. I don’t know that she gets it totally.

2. Did a messy craft. In my new house. We spread peanut butter on pinecones and rolled them in birdseed. Very messy but memorable. And Ella gets a kick out of watching the birds peck around on the seeds.

3. Wrapped presents for nephew and Ella’s friends (my friend’s kids). Amelia tore into one of the packages and instead of getting mad, I let her do it and get it out of her system. We wrapped the same package about 6 times. What’s a little tape, paper and time, right? We had another teachable moment about toys that other kids might like.

4. Got out ALL the toys and let them tear into the basement playroom. I did laundry and sorted some stuff and they just got to play without me harping on them to clean up. They have never just gotten to dump out anything they’ve wanted because our old place was too small. There just wasn’t room. And, all of their toys weren’t in the same place at the same time.

5. I put Amelia to bed early and Ella and I made choclate pudding. And then ate it. Together. Without the baby. She almost never gets time alone with me. I have to remember that.

All in all, one of the better days. One of the better ones in a long time. I don’t want anyone to think that everything sucks. I’m just very overwhelmed. I don’t like being thrust into single parenting and I’m second guessing everything. Heaven forbid that I have to make a decision about of the girls health in the middle of the night. I’d probably have a heart attack.

I’m up too late again which means that I’ll be tired in the morning. Again. I think, however, that I will trade the tired for the insanity that comes with never having a moment alone. I feel like this last 2 hours or so after the kiddos are in bed and before I pass out is my own. I certainly don’t usually put it to good use. I might load the dishwasher or I might read the paper but I’m usually online somewhere…dreaming of pretty things to make, craft, sew, bake, cook, organize…whatever. I’ve been trying to find the perfect beef stew recipe. I’m hungry for it although I highly doubt that my highly processed children will touch it unless it was coated in mustard and served with a pickle.

Have I asked this question…how many pickles can a kid have in a day? The little gherkin ones. They are just tiny cukes, right? So the answer is “until she’s pickled”.

Back in the day, I used to be pickled. But I was pickled in Vodka (Absolut Kurant) 7’s and Midori Margaritas. I miss those days. I miss my drag queen hethan friends who never woke before noon and never went anywhere before 4. I miss the days where all I had to be responsible for were my house keys, ATM card and ID.

And I can’t tell you the last time I laughed. Really, for real, laughed. Laughed until it hurt. How long ago was that?


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