The Time Has Come

It's been a while since I've really felt like writing.  I can do it in my head, in the middle of making dinner or folding laundry or bathing a kid.  But by the time I make it to a point where I can sit and breath and write something down, I'd rather do something else.  I'd rather curl up with my husband or read a book or spend time with friends.

At first, I felt guilty about this.  Blogging, once a cathartic activity, had become something I felt I had to do.  People fussed at me when I didn't post regularly.  I was trying to please those people because I'm an oldest child and I want to promote harmony, but I'd lost the joy writing.

One day I found myself sitting in the middle of a blog conference surrounded by women who were concerned about 'branding' their blogs and should they monetize or not and how could they attract more readers and keep those readers loyal and blah, blah, blah.... when suddenly, I realized I just didn't care.  It was freeing to simply sit and allow my blog to stagnate.

And I lost the coveted 'readership' only to realize that I was okay with that, too.  I was investing my time into people and growth, even if I didn't want to write about it. 

For quite some time, I've just been trying to document the milestones, achievements, the silly stories that I know I'll forget.  I've tried to capture some of the joy and the heartache, the pride and the frustrations or both my children and this role I find myself in as a Mommy to Many.

Now, though, it's time to write again.  The words are back, the stories are begging to be put down.  The ones my children will laugh at themselves over in years to come.  The ones my heart is working through.  The ones that are sculpting my today and my tomorrows.

Fairy Dust & Sunshine

A few weeks ago, Elizabeth bounced down the steps with a grin on her sweet face and excitedly told us about her new surprise: Her first loose tooth!  At the forefront of her mind for days afterward was her barely wiggly tooth. 

But it fell off our radar.  She lost interest in the tooth when it didn't fall out immediately and I, being the the Mother with the incredible Memory, forgot about it.

Until today. 

I was sitting on the couch reading Seven when Elizabeth came bounding through again.


"Mommy...I've got something that fell out for you."  Huge impish grin from my sweet little Sunshine child.

I looked at her with caution as she held out her hand.  (I'm always a little afraid of what my children might drop in my hand!)

I looked at her shining eyes and she shouted right in my face "IT'S MY TOOTH!!!"

I giggled and hugged her tightly and peered in at the hole in her mouth.  Then she proudly recounted each wiggle of the last few moments.  She's so excited about her Tooth Fairy coming tonight!  She deliberated for a while over who her Tooth Fairy would be.  "Well, Thomas was my first Tooth Fairy..."

"I want Sarah Grace to be my Tooth Fairy because she's a good Tooth Fairy, I think."

I love these milestones! 

Aromatherapy

Alternately titled - The Therapy I Need After The Aromas Of My Day Are Done Assaulting Me

But that's just plain too long, don't'cha think?

There are things about Motherhood that nobody shares with you.  Like how you will have days when everything makes you cry.  Eh.Vuh.Ree.Thang.  And if you haven't had one of those yet, consider yourself 'shared with'.

But here's the heart of this post...my kids smell.  They cause parts of my house to stink.

I cleaned their bathroom today.  It's a job that I freely admit to detesting muchly.  There's gummed up toothpaste on the counters, dried toothpastey spittle on the mirrors and sinks and faucets, jiblets of toilet paper strewn about, skid marks on the potty, and smelly laundry piled behind the door.

And that's on a good day.

I should probably just clean in there more often.

Their bedrooms have a distinct smell to them as well.  Thomas' room usually smells like sweat and wet athletic shoes.  I don't know how he manages that particular scent, but it's there.  It's mild now, but he's only 8, so I have all kinds of certainties that it will intensify.

The girls room usually smells like a wet diaper.  Anna has a habit of taking her pull-up off in the mornings and leaving it on the floor.  Occasionally, it gets kicked under the bed.  Once I found one in a dresser drawer.  It's another check-mark on my parenting list, though not one I ever wanted to check off.

And then there's my kids.  The smells range from unbrushed teeth and dirty diapers to that salty-sour smell that children emit after a hard days play.  The younger ones sometimes smell like they didn't quite make it the potty on time, and I draw the line, sending them up to that bathroom for a bath.

But man, when those cuties are scrubbed up and sparkly clean, I can't help but snug them up close and inhale the littleness.  They are growing so fast, morphing from my Munchkin Brigade into Big Kids before my eyes. 

And that's why I sometimes smell like a stinky kid.  Because I see them growing and changing and even if they do make my nose crinkle a bit, I'm gonna pull them into my lap and stroke their hair and hold them close.