Things have been going well around the Kidd house. Normal everyday life. Its been nice, but sometimes things have to be shaken up to make you more thankful for the good times.
Today was one of those days. The "shake it up" kind.
I guess it actually started yesterday afternoon when I took Ethan to his ballgame, but for some reason just couldn't get there on time. I drive 30 miles with a kid who complains of a headache and two brothers that are intent to make him feel worse, just to be within a mile of the field to get the call that the game has been called because of weather. Really? Like the warning issued by the National Weather Service couldn't help you make that decision an hour ago? Anywho. We drive home in the storm and safely arrive in order to get ready for another day.
The dog barked all night. Which scares the bejeezus out of me because he only barks when something or someone that shouldn't be here, is. So I sneak glances through the blinds, but can't find the culprit.
I finally get some sleep and wake up to get Ethan off for his day of school and things are going alright. I slip back into bed, snuggled between my two smaller cuddle bunnies and get some more rest.
Ezra woke up and wandered through the house before I got up. He was supposed to go get his diaper so I could change him, but he just walked around playing for awhile. When he finally came back to me (It really was only a few minutes. I don't let my kids goof off forever without adult supervision.) he had poop all over his little legs, leaking from his diaper. It. Was. Nasty. I scoop him up, take him to the bathroom and get him cleaned up in the tub. That wasn't so bad, even if I didn't want to deal with crap (literally) first thing this morning.
Clean and fresh we head to the kitchen for breakfast. That's when I find it. The trail of poop he has left throughout the house. Ugh. Across the living room, to the kitchen (especially in front of the fridge), into and back out of the laundry room, to the boys' bathroom (where he must have tried to use the potty or clean himself up...I really don't want to know) and I'm guessing a repeat back through the living room to me.
Sorry that was so gross. I'm just keeping it real.
We do some things around the house (clean a poop trail) eat breakfast and play until lunch time. After lunch, the boys are laid down for a nap. Except they really don't want to take a nap today. Of course not! Who wants a nap? Ezra sneaked into Elijah's room and, since they were playing quietly, I let them be. Until Ezra let out a blood curdling scream. I take off. He looks fine, but he's crying like nobody's business, obviously hurting. I look for Elijah. He's lying on his bed like he's been there the whole time trying to take a nap. Yeah. Right. I try to get Ezra to tell me what's wrong, but he can't get it out. I'm looking him over and asking Elijah what happened. "Me don't know." Finally Ezra tells me, "JiJi. Hit. Head. Hurt." Poor baby got knocked in the head by his "innocent" brother. I start looking at his little head and then I see it. Blood. Coming from a little gash. Ewww. I'm looking around trying to figure out what caused the damage and he shows me the dinosaur that Elijah knocked him with. Great. What do I do? Do I need to go to urgent care? Or the ER? Wait...I have a kid getting off the bus in thirty minutes so I can't go anywhere. I clean it up and send Ronnie a picture. He thinks he'll be okay, but I may want someone else to check it out. I decide to keep an eye on it for a bit just to see what happens.
I baby Ezra for a bit, go get Ethan, come back to the house to cook supper so we can get ready to go to the game that is being played tonight. (Another 60 mile round trip. Yay.) I start cooking the meat and turn on a pot of water for some noodles. I remembered I needed to ask my mom something so I give her a call. I'm sitting at the desk, on the phone, when I hear something. I look up in time to see a Pyrex dish and the plate that was on top of it explode and fly across the kitchen in thousands of tiny pieces. And then there's the fact that Ezra was in the kitchen, only a few feet from the stove. I abruptly hang up on my mom, grab my shoes and go grab my baby. Thankfully he is fine with only one little boo boo on his arm. But it was all my fault because I turned on the wrong burner. Pregnancy brain? I think so.
I send all the boys to their room so I can clean glass shards, only to hear that same scream from Ezra once again. Poor child fell on the toy he was playing with and has a bruise on his cheek and one on his chin.
About that time Rondo starts barking. I look out and my cousin is here. Which is fine. She's picking something up for me and she is awesome enough to check Ezra's head. I tell Ethan to get his uniform on every 5 seconds while they're here so we can leave when they do. They leave. Ethan is still in school clothes. He couldn't find his uniform. Even though he had it on last night. I got irritated.
We finally leave home about 5 minutes before we should be at the field. I'm good, but I can't do 30 miles in 5 minutes. Or 25 for that matter because every single person I got behind insisted on driving 5-10 mph below the speed limit. Errr. We arrive and the rude lady at the gate takes my $2 even though I was told we wouldn't have to pay. Ethan hops out to play ball and I sit in the car with sleeping babies. Remember, they never took a nap. They wake up and I go out to watch the last four hits of the game. That, my friends, is $2 well-spent.
We hit Cookout on the way home and things were looking up. Everyone happily ate fatty food and talked until we got to our driveway. About that time Ezra coughed. I looked at him and asked if he was alright. He told me he was. 3.6 seconds later he spewed vomit all over the place. Great. I got him out of the car seat and helped him out of his clothes, the boys helped me carry things in and we got Ezra to the tub. I specifically told Elijah not to go in the kitchen since he didn't have shoes on. And guess what. I'm giving Ezra a bath when Elijah walks in with blood running out of his heel. Cut by glass. I wanted to say "I told you so," so bad. But instead I explained why I give him instructions and boundaries to keep him safe. Which, bless his heart, makes him cry harder that when he gets any other punishment.
And it only took an hour and a half to get them all settled in bed tonight. Too much excitement today.
I'm sorry this is so long, but I've got a point to make. I was all upset about everything that had gone down today. I even cried to Ronnie because everything was falling apart. I was ready to write this post and call it something like "Stay at home mom and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."
But my mentor and friend messaged me on facebook and my outlook changed. I didn't tell her all that happened today. We talked about how glad we are that we aren't teaching anymore and how I'm glad I made the decision to stay home. I even said/typed "a bad day at home beats a good day at work." It hit me hard when I did that. Yeah, today was less than ideal. I didn't get much done, my kid has at least four new boo boos for his daddy to kiss when he gets home tomorrow, I lost some dishes and had a mess to clean up, we spent more time on the road than playing baseball, but at least I wasn't dealing with all the junk I'd be dealing with at work. I chose to become a stay at home mom. I chose to deal with my kids 24/7 and that involves the good and the bad.
And when we finished up our conversation, I said that I needed to "re-tuck" the kids because they'd all gotten out of bed. Again. And she told me, "I miss that...you have no idea how much. Enjoy, my girl. Enjoy." I had tears in my eyes. I may get overwhelmed at times. And my hormones contribute to me getting more flustered than normal, but I can feel it. I can sense that the boys are growing right before my eyes. I saw it in Ezra when I cut his hair and he didn't look so babyish anymore. I saw it in Elijah when I realized he isn't so bow-legged anymore and his pants started creeping up higher than his ankles. I saw it in Ethan on his field trip last week when he was content to hang out with his friends and looked like a big kid walking around with his new-found confidence. It hurts to think of it, but my kids will be gone all too soon. I can't stop them from growing up. I wouldn't want to.
So even on days like today, I need to stop and remember that this is only a season. My days won't be like this forever. One day I'll be sitting in a quiet house without boo boos to kiss or games to drive to and I know I'll miss it. And when I remember this I'm thankful that God has given me the opportunity to mother these three little boys. I'm blessed, but I often forget it. Today I'm thankful that Ezra didn't need stitches. I'm thankful that he wasn't hurt by flying glass. I'm thankful that Ethan got to do something he enjoys. I'm thankful that I worked on teaching Elijah to say "yes ma'am" instead of "why" when he's told to do something. I'm thankful that I get to be so involved in the lives of these little people.
I am so blessed. I just needed to have one of those days to remind me how much.
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