The Know-It-All Who No Longer Knows

Whoever said that moms deserve some time to themselves obviously did not have kids. Or, at least no "spirited" kids like my AiAi. The last time I tried to post while all three kids watched a video, I later found that AiAi had emptied an entire box of goldfish crackers on the floor. I'm talking about a Costco sized box roughly large enough to fill a bathtub. As if that weren't enough, he then entertained himself by walking, jumping, skipping through, and otherwise pulverizing the crackers into little tiny pieces. I admire his creativity at least. It just seems that those small moments of time carved out by moms are usually counter-acted with additional work in some way, doesn't it?

Who could get angry at a face like that?

I never use to have any interest in blogs, until I received this story via an e-mail forward. Check it out for yourself if you would like. It is a very creative and humorous story about a mom taking her six young kids grocery shopping. Apparently, the kids sneaked some Pokemon cards into her cart and she unwittingly purchased them. Later, she posted the cards on E-Bay along with a funny story. It resonated with so many moms that soon tens of thousands of people were reading it.

I (and the thousands of others) just had to read more of her funnies, so I started reading her blog (which was brand new at that time). In record time she went from having approximately one reader (her mom) to surpassing one million hits. She has been in the media a lot since then, including a spot on ABC News, and now she has a book about her adventures in motherhood being published this summer.

Anyways, I just love her honesty and her amazing sense of humor. She lives in a 1,000 square foot home with SIX kiddies! I don't know how she does it. But, her love of motherhood is obvious. She is a Christian and said that right before she was "discovered," she had been praying hard to find a way to contribute to her family's income and still be able to stay home with her kids. I'm not in any way hoping that my blog will be "discovered" like hers was. I don't even have it linked to any search engines. I just really love her story and she helps me to not take my life too seriously.

The other day, I was reading one of her posts (about a funny bad dream where she is a waitress and can't stay on top of it all), and, I don't usually read the many comments, but I must have been exceptionally bored or just feeling lazy because I started to skim through them.

I found one of the comments to be extremely ironic. It was coming from another mom who begins:

"I understand what you mean about waking up in a cold sweat. I have one child who is 5 and getting everything done around the house use to stress me out. I know, one kid to your six, but . . ."

And, she proceeds to give advice about how she's got it all figured out.

"I found an easy way to get things done . . . when I do laundry, she is doing laundry. When I am cooking, she is doing dishes. Kids can do anything and since you have six - put them to work. My youngin' knows how to do the laundry, dishes, vacuum, dust, clean the tub and sweep. She also has daily chores that if she doesn't do them, then she doesn't play with friends . . ."

I don't know why that comment just struck me as so funny. Hello? You have one child who is five? Hmmm . . . It must be nice to have all the answers.

When Soph was my only child, I loved to have her right with me doing everything I did. She has always cooked with me. And, even when E-Man came along, I still loved to have them cooking with me. I even bought them matching stools to make sure they could always reach to help out in the kitchen. Now, with three, it is usually more of a chore than anything. What with all the ingredients being spilled and only a portion of them making their way into the bowl, all the fingers picking things out of the bowl, and it is always a joy to let the kids crack the eggs, and let's not forget the problem of sneezing.

It's even more interesting to cook when I am babysitting three kids who are the same ages as mine. I let them take turns "helping," because I don't think I could handle that much "help" all at once. But, it's pretty hard to be involved in the kitchen and averting other catastrophes (like the babies tearing the house apart) all at the same time.

My kids also like to vacuum (just the other day Soph, E-man and I were taking turns vacuuming upstairs while AiAi was pushing all of the toys off the shelves downstairs into one huge broken mass), help with the laundry (it is really helpful when two of them run around putting socks and underwear in the correct drawers while the third tries to pour a glass of juice but ends up pouring it all over the floor), and wash the dishes (Note: Young kids doing the dishes is not, in fact, less work than doing them myself but I persevere in hopes that someday it will be less work).

I don't mean to sound judgemental of the gal who gave the advice. I'm sure she had the best intentions. Just as we've all thought we had good intentions at one time or another when we've thought we had the answers.

Here is just one story of when I, myself, was guilty:

With pregnancy #1, I was not in particularly great shape, and when the unbearable nausea set in during the first weeks, I gave in to lounging about on the couch and eating crackers around the clock because having something in my mouth at all times seemed to make me feel better.

This resulted in a miserable pregnancy.

When I began pregnancy #2 I was determined to "do better." I faithfully went to the gym and I found relief by eating extra protein. The pregnancy went much better -- well, that is until I hit week 30 and had to go on bed rest to combat pre-term labor. Still, overall, it was much less miserable.

So, I loved to tell nauseous pregnant women "my secret" -- "just keep exercising and eat some extra protein, you'll feel better!" I really thought I had learned a lot . . . until . . . pregnancy #3.

I started out pregnancy #3 in the best physical shape of my whole life. Mentally, physically, emotionally, I was ready. Strangely, I was overcome with misery and sickness almost from the moment of conception. Trips to the gym resulted in entire days spent in bed recovering. Extra protein meals sent me hurtling to the bathroom. What of my great attitude and my learned secrets? The only possible explanation was that it must be a "girl" pregnancy thing, so I was in utter shock when the doctor assured me that I was having a boy. How could it be? Slowly I'm learning how little I know, but it was nice to have it all figured out while it lasted.