God Bless Stay at Home Moms

Day One 

Day One of being a temporary stay-at-home Mom was easy peasy!  In fairness, we opened Christmas presents on day one so the distractions were never-ending and everyone was happy and perfect in every way!  Plus, my partner in crime was by my side and handling four boys between the two of us is an equation that always seems to work out nicely.  My partner handed out endless batteries and untwisted those unmanageable ties used to keep things in their boxes while I cooked a ham and cleaned up the leftover twisty things wherever they happened to drop, which was seemingly everywhere.  Everyone went to bed happy and exhausted declaring this was the best Christmas yet…mission accomplished.

Day Two

My partner in crime headed to work and four still very happy boys woke up at their leisure.  They emerged to eat breakfast and retreated to different areas of the house armed with their electronic devices.  There was important stuff to do, games to download, music to listen to, statuses to update, and races to be won.  Everything went so smoothly I was lulled into a false sense of security and started the laundry and more clean up while giving them space to be kids.  When batteries needed to be recharged, literally, they all appeared again to plug themselves in and what ensued was a rousing game of poker.  None of the boys know the rules so in true form they made them up and changed them when convenient.  When the shrieks and yells got louder I decided to take a look and found four boys delightedly rolling all over the poker mat.  I have come to accept that since I am a girl I do not understand what boys love so much about rolling around on the floor.  Especially that floor which is littered with dirty clothes that never quite made it to the laundry basket, books, toys, and a discarded toothbrush.  I suggested lunch and having quelled them somewhat I went to make it.  I was barely out of the room before the craziness started again; nothing ill-natured, merely the shenanigans of an energetic bunch who probably should be made to go outside and expend some energy.  Lunch was served and what followed was the rowdiest, noisiest, silliest meal I have ever witnessed.  These four boys quite literally laughed at anything, the goofier the better; if it didn’t make any sense at all it was hilarious! These four boys had somehow multiplied exponentially and had become like handling ten.  I could not fathom these creatures but placed my hope in the fact that I admire several men, my partner in crime, my Dad, some good friends included, who have turned out well and they were probably like this once.  After lunch we headed to the YMCA where they swam for over an hour quite contentedly while I turned up my music and ran and rowed their craziness out of my bones.  In the lobby I saw a good friend I hadn’t seen in a while and we sat and caught up while the boys were getting dressed.  Eventually I had them all in my sights and we chatted a bit longer and when I looked up they were all looking at me with that lack of understanding I had at lunch when looking at them.  It’s true; men and women are from different planets.  I chuckled and bundled them into the car.

Day Three   

  

At 10 on the nose I announced that electronic devices would shortly be shut off and they would be exiting the building.  There were no arguments and I think they were as ready as I was to do what comes naturally to them.  It took a while for the plan to be finalized but eventually they were heading out the door clad in snow pants, jackets and boots.  When they returned at noon they were filthy, covered in mud from head to toe.  I had made soup and sandwiches and baked muffins since I was pretending to be a pro at this sort of stuff and everyone settled down to lunch.  They were back to their normal selves, which should probably be defined as ravenous punctuated by telling a story which was picked up by the next boy whenever a bite was taken or chewing was required.  We went swimming again and I was affirmed that the key to boy happiness and my sanity was mud, water and food.  Too much time in the virtual world was not good for any of us!

Day Four 

I went to get my hair done while my partner in crime took over.  I can only imagine that in the life of a true angel, a.k.a stay at home Mom, this day is eagerly awaited every few weeks.  The chance to not repeat oneself or have every conversation somehow end up with references to bodily functions is priceless.  When I returned to the tribe I was called Missy, in a semi-accusatory manner, by a teenager as if I had abandoned them.  I think that was a way of welcoming me back and missing me while I was gone, one can never be too sure with this crowd.  What I do know is that stay at home Moms are truly underestimated.  They must have the patience of saints, and the ability to ignore at least fifty percent of what they hear and not be as literal as I am about the other fifty!  I have several days left as a temporary stay at home Mom and I’m a work in progress so hopefully I will continue to evolve.  Most importantly, I do love these boys so if I run into my husband’s arms when he comes home it’s because I love him too  ;o)  

Twelve Promises of Christmas

Unbeknownst to her, my friend Karen inspired this piece.  She is a wonderful writer and a more faithful blogger than I!  I respect and admire her skills both as a writer and as a person who humbly tries to be her best everyday.  I love reading her posts and this week she has mentioned the angel made by little boy hands that went missing from the top of their tree in 2007 in her series called The Twelve Days of Christmas.  At the same time as wondering where that paper angel went I have been grappling with a theme for my blog this week.  Typically I play with a couple of ideas and one feels more “right” than the other and I let my feelings give my fingers the orders.  I had not hit upon the right fit until I read Karen’s Twelve Days series.   Here I offer you my take on a borrowed theme.  Karen – please forgive me and believe in the old saying that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me one heart to cherish forever.

On the second day of Christmas my true love offered to me two hands to hold for all time.

On the third day of Christmas my true love cycled victoriously with me up and over three mountain passes.

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love committed with me to four crazy, fun, wonderful fellas.    

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love dreamed with me the first five countries we will travel to together.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love tuned up six bikes and off we went for a family ride.

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love hung for me seven strings of Christmas lights – not his favorite thing to do ;o)

On the eighth day of Christmas my true love sang to me eight 80s songs (and he danced too!)

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love and I painstakingly wrapped nine presents to ship.

On the tenth day of Christmas my true love held me close and gave me ten hugs to keep me warm.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me eleven smiles just by being himself.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me twelve kisses under the mistletoe and the promise of a lifetime of love.

The Spirit of the Gift

From a pretty early age I liked the idea of buying gifts.  I would save my pocket money in the weeks leading up to Christmas and until I was old enough to catch the bus into the big town, I would walk to the village of Lees.  Thirty-ish years ago Lees had a small library, a dress shop, a sweet shop, and on the corner a chemists (aka pharmacy).  All were small shops with glass cases and an array of merchandise that was dazzling to my eyes.  I remember most of my presents being purchased at the chemists because they sold a little bit of everything.  I could find a box of jellied fruits for my Nan, a model airplane kit for my brother, jewels for my Mum, and soap on a rope for my Dad.  Even today soap on a rope makes me think of my Dad and whenever one of the boys presents me with pretty rings or shiny bracelets I can hear my Mum’s sweet laughter that sounded like wind chimes brushed gently by the breeze.   

Over the years I graduated to colognes and desired books for my Dad and at the peak of my gift selections I gave him a moustache trimmer.  This gift was talked about for many years and became the gold standard of gift giving in our home.  My Dad loved gadgets and reading the instructions from cover to cover, laying out the gadget in front of him and mastering each of its capabilities, and intermittently saying “Watch this” excitedly was all part of the fun for him (and for us but we never admitted that).  This gift was an immediate hit as it had numerous settings and speeds.  Once he had gone through this ritual practice run he was eager to try it for real and headed upstairs to trim his moustache all the while murmuring to himself that this was the best present yet.  After a while we heard a meek voice calling for us, “Diane…Nic…can you come here for a minute?”  My Dad emerged at the top of stairs looking surprised and bemused as we rounded the corner.  My Mum and I braked, gasped and burst into laughter; half his moustache was gone!  He tried to look hurt when we couldn’t stop laughing but instead he started chuckling and in a matter of moments we were all doubled over.  In fairness to my Dad he had not seen the look on his face which was even more amusing than his uneven facial adornments.  Finally, weak from laughter, my Mum stammered, “What happened?” and my Dad, sounding bewildered, replied with “It’s a bit more vicious than I expected.”  Over the course of the next couple of weeks we alternately compared him to a certain political leader of the past who led a certain unpopular political party and Charlie Chaplain.  Fortunately my Dad was a somewhat hairy man and the moustache grew back quickly.  No greater love has a father for his daughter than he who doggedly stuck to his story for years that this was the best present he ever received!  Truly, he used it frequently and every other present after that was always compared to the moustache trimmer.

From this experience I learned that it is the thought that goes into gift giving that matters to those you love.  This year I think we have hit some home runs.  Thanks to my amazing husband we started thinking about each of our recipients early in November and consequently had time to plan, devise and find exactly what we were looking for; as an added bonus all shopping was successfully completed before the end of November, an absolute first in my lifetime!  If you are reading this and you are a recipient, please know that if your gift is not everything you wanted we thought about you lots and hopefully that helps ultimately!!  I still love to see the reaction of those I love when they open their presents and I’m optimistic we will have at least four gasps this year; rest assured that no-one is receiving a moustache trimmer ;o)