Relaxing in bed to the sounds of my husband in the kitchen making the omelet I taught him to make last night, a smile spread across my face. The kitty jumped up to join me, settling on my chest, gently kneading my shoulder, while rubbing her forehead into my chin, purring and getting pets. Sigh...peace and contentment.
My shadow, aka Seren jumped up, settling at my feet and started digesting her breakfast. The second dog, Linus jumped up, and immediately started barking at, and playing with Seren. The cat, digging her claws in, leaped out of harm's way. The red droplets forming on my chest reminded me of the roses that were arranged in a vase on my island countertop. My youngest son, singing, "Happy Mother's Day Mom,"
carefully made his way into the room, monitoring the coffee cup in his hand with "L'amo" written in chalk across its face. As my youngest, putting my coffee on the nightstand, climbed into bed with me to snuggle, my oldest son ran into the room, screaming, "Happy Mother's Day!" jumping on top of my youngest. Linus attacked both of them, added his barking and growling to the screaming and giggling. I was reduced to a 2' x 3' corner of my queen size bed, covering my ears.
My husband's voice was distantly heard yelling, "What's going on here? It's Mother's Day, ya know?!"
The screaming abruptly halted, with a few barks and giggles mutinously escaping. My youngest, entangled in his brother's arms and legs, turned to me and said, "Sadly, Mom, Mother's Day coincides with Pestilence Day." (On my honor, word for word!) Happy Pestilence Day!Mary Kathryn Johnson
Author ~ Entrepreneur ~ Mom
MommyLoves to Chat!
Say Bump and Take a Left
10. It's Fun!
9. You create something, even though it looks like an alien mass of Legos.
8. It gives you time away from your husband and his belching as long as you are doing it in a room with no TV.
7. You don't have to cook or clean anything.
6. You don't have to pay a babysitter almost more than the Psychologist.
5. You bond with your kids in their world.
4. You don't have to fill up the car with gas to get there.
3. Following those 30 page manuals takes total concentration, and if crying is therapy, you will get more than you need.
2. Working with your hands to build something is like meditation, and you can do it while lying down on the couch in your own home.
1. Using your imagination takes you out of your own head, which is really where the problem started!
Now, since you probably bought some of those Legos as a Christmas or Hanukkah present, you have a perfect excuse to de-stress from the Holiday hassle without spending any extra money. For goodness sake, if you still feel you need therapy, send me the money, and we can schedule weekly chats that are sure to make you laugh and cry...Oh, that's number zero...Some of the lego creations your kids can create will surely make you laugh! (consider that one a free gift)
(disclaimer ~ The author in no way claims to be a Psychologist or any other kind of therapist, unless you are directly related to the author. In that case she is completely qualified to talk you through any childhood trauma you wish to discuss, as she is a licensed ________ family therapist.)
It is very hard to resist buying everything you see for your baby's first holiday! Once your little bundle turns 5 and your house is bursting with legos or doll clothes, and never played with toys, you no longer have that urge to 'pick up just one more thing' - that's what Grandparents are for. Those very same Grandparents are probably the ones who continued the toy gluttony that got you into this mess, literally! Raising the Grandparents takes the same skill set as raising your munchkin - patience and consistency. My In-Laws are of the mindset that if they don't buy everything my boys want, my boys won't love them.
At least that is what it seems?! Luckily, I had a glimpse of my toy-related future when my first born was about a year old. Sitting up and interacting with his environment was the signal for Grandma and Grandpa to buy every supposedly fun toy on the market! That Christmas when my son was 16 months old was the worst of my life! Really! He had a meltdown after the third present. Then dad had a meltdown, then it was my turn. After our nap, we put away the rest of the unopened presents for another day. We actually dolled them out, one a month until there were no more. The more difficult task was dealing with the culprits in this caper - the Grandparents.
We laid down the law that they could give only TWO presents per holiday - including birthdays. The first holiday we got, "We forgot!" The second holiday we got, "We couldn't resist, look how much he loves them!" Then I got nasty. I told the smothering, aged children that if they did not keep to the two present limit, they would not be allowed to give any more presents for the next two years, and if they still tried to give presents, I would confiscate them and burn them no matter how much my soon-to-be spoiled brat son cried! That finally hit home, because they know me too well, and they kept to the limit. That is until Little Brother came along.
Needless to say, I have had to be vigilant at my post every holiday for the past 13 years - yes my oldest just turned 13, and those pesky, wannabe rebellious teenagers I call In-Laws have given me my best preparation for Middle School.
MIDDLE SCHOOL?! How the hell did I get here again?!
How do you handle the holiday gluttony?
(This is a repost from 2009, and I'm still monitoring those rebellious Grandparents!)
---Mary Kathryn Johnson 2011