Me Me Me

Life has been busy as of late. Running Turner to school, going to the gym, getting groceries, cooking supper, cleaning house. But amidst the hum of all that's ordinary are moments that are extraordinary.
As we all know Halloween is fast approaching. Turner is going to be the mighty blue Power Ranger, and has been asking me to be the pink Power Ranger. After looking everywhere for a non-skanky costume I gave up and told him that Mommy would just be a witch. My lil boy answered me and said "But Mommy, you aren't a witch, you're my princess, be a princess." My apologies to any girl or woman who in the far off future thinks she will be remotely good enough to even contemplate dating my little prince charming, because no woman alive will ever be good enough!
I am trying to commit to memory every funny thing Turner says or every look on Tate's face when they are playing together. I want to always remember that every time we pass the petting zoo on the way to his school he asks where the "Cantaloupes" (camels) are. I want to always remember the smell of my babies, the softness of their heads pressed against my cheek. I have been trying to concentrate on all that is good in my life, and there is a lot.
While I am being thankful and grateful life keeps getting in my way. I will always remember the smell of sour spit-up, dirty diapers, billy goat mixed with feet smelling two year olds. I want to remember the softness is their voices, not the headaches their crying gave me.
I have been having one of those spells where I just don't want to do anything. I don't have any desire to cook, I dread folding clothes, why do I always have to do the dishes? I hope all moms go through these little crappy attitude spells and it's not just me. I think that the excitement of moving has worn off. The house is unpacked and now beckons to be cared for. The babies need constant attention, my husband always needs shirts ironed and lunches packed. Why do I feel guilty for just wanting a day that I do nothing. I don't' want to be asked to fix oatmeal, I don't want to have to cook, I want my clothes washed and put away for me. I want to bathe when I feel like it, with no one crying and making me rush. I want to eat dinner, go sit down and watch what I want on TV with out worrying about the dishes and the left-overs. I want to sleep all the way through the night and sleep late the next morning. I want to go to the mall with out a list or a stroller, shop for as long as I wish and try on everything I want.
I am selfish. Most of the time I like being needed by everyone in my family. Most of the time I cherish my time with the kids. Most of the time I like being domestic and helping make Brad's day a little easier. Most of the time, but not today. Today I want the things that aren't afforded to a mother of two small children.
I think if I was given this magical day where I didn't have a care in the world or any responsibilties I would be bored out of my mind. Turner and Tate fill every moment of the day and night for me. I love my time with each of them. They are both funny, insightful, amazing little human beings that I am proud to have had a part in making. The trick is being able to appreciate all you have even when you're mood is sour. So I am trying to breathe in all the little moments that make up my crazy life, both the good and the bad. Perhaps I will run away with the circus one day, but for now I'll continue to lead the three rings right here at home.

Too busy to what?

My baby boy is growing up, he started preschool this week. On Wednesday morning I drove Turner to school, the whole trip watching for Lil Monster's horns. Lil Monster must have been sleeping in, because Turner is who I dropped off and Turner is who I picked up.
On the way to school I caught myself getting teary eyed. I also took notes on how hyper paranoid I am. How could I, Queen of the Universe, let Turner go and be taken care of by mere mortals? They might not make him wash his hands before he eats, they might let him jump off of the monkey bars, they might let him eat too much sugar, or pick his nose. Despite my fears he had a wonderful day and is ready to go back tomorrow.
I will learn to enjoy my new alone time with Tate instead of spending it looking at the clock. I will even enjoy that Turner now has a part of his life that doesn't involve me.
Turner and I came home on Wednesday, ate lunch, had a cookie and we were talking about his day. Out of no where my son, my not even three year old little boy, farted so loudly I thought it must have blown the back of his pants to smithereens. After asking him if he was alright I started to laugh, after all when is a toot not funny? Turner looked right at me and said " I was just too busy to toot today". This made me fall on the floor. I asked what he meant. He said he was just so busy that he forgot he had to toot. I hope once I get used to our new little schedule that I fill the time up so much that I too will be too busy to toot.