1 week ago-
I was shopping with all four children. Braeden, my little man, was helping me load the car with kids and groceries. I opened the lift gate to put my goods in the car and sighed, shaking my head I looked at Braeden and said “Why is my car full of crap again? I just cleaned this thing out!”
Braeden shrugged and responded dryly- “Uh, because you have like seven kids. Just give up mom. It is what it is.”
Later that same week-
I picked up the four children and had all just walked in the house from a long day. Everyone was starving, thirsty and tired. Kelan had wet his pants on the way into the house and was trying to climb onto the counter to get the left over Halloween candy. Ailey was exhausted and just wanted to be held. But my hands were filled with the boys as they fought with each other and issued their demands. So she walked along with me as I tried desperately to fulfill their orders, clutching my leg and crying as her brothers carried on and on and on. I had been home for about fifteen minutes and hadn’t even been able to take my coat off.
“Mom can I have some juice? I want some candy. I want hot cocoa? Where’s my truck? I want a snack. What’s for dinner? I’m thirsty. How come he gets candy?”
Then Kelan began crying in unison with Ailey because I pulled him out of the candy jar and off the counter.
Trying to get Ailey calmed down I held her on one hip and continued to fight with Kelan over the Halloween candy, when Kian came up and tapped me on the back and said quietly- Momma, I said I’m thirsty.
Overwrought, I looked at them all and asked “Oh my God! Are you kids TRYING to kill me?”
Braeden, never one to miss the opportunity for a one-liner, yelled from the other room (where he conveniently took himself during the pandemonium) “I don’t know, but they’re KILLING MEEEEEEEE!”
This past weekend-
Eight thirty Saturday morning, I was racing to get the kids out the door to Braeden’s basketball scrimmage. Get dressed; get your teeth brushed, shoes, coats, hats. Doing twenty things with two hands at the same time, I reached for Ailey’s frilly white bonnet and put it on a waiting Kelan, tying it prettily in a bow under his chin. Then I reached for Ailey and began to put her coat on.
Braeden said to me, “Uh, mom. What are you doing?”
Exasperated I replied, “What do you mean? We’re in a hurry!”
“You just put Ailey’s bonnet on Kelan.” He pointed out.
Rolling my eyes, I looked at Kelan in his sister’s bonnet standing quietly, no doubt waiting for someone to notice.
Taking the hat off, I looked at a laughing Braeden and said “Do you see? Do you? I’ve completely lost my mind.”
Still laughing, Braeden said “Yeah, you have. But how about Kelan just standing there with the hat on. He was probably too scared to tell you it was Ailey’s.”
“Oh, that’s great. Thanks B.” I said, feeling awful.
“It’s okay mom. You’re just tough. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
After two and a half hours of basketball scrimmaging-
I was walking out of the grocery store. (Yes, again- I spend a large part of my life buying groceries.) I was pushing Kelan and Ailey in the shopping cart through the parking lot, when Kelan promptly erupted into tears. Thinking he’d somehow hurt himself, I stopped the cart and asked “What? What’s wrong, honey?”
He answered with a wail, “I want to go to the wine store! We didn’t go to the wine store!”
The three people walking out next to us, just looked and laughed. I felt really special.
Later that day-
I was home. Groceries were put away, thanks to Kelan the wine was chilling in the fridge, the house was picked up and a roast was in the oven. Kelan and Ailey had just woken from their naps and Braeden had just come in from playing outside with a friend.
I went to throw something in the garbage and noticed Braeden’s new school sneakers kicked off by the door, covered in mud. Not happy with his lack of responsibility, I picked up the sneaks and said out loud to myself “Look at these damn shoes! Covered in mud!”
Whirling around, I hollered upstairs- “Braeden Patrick get down here right now! I mean it, NOW!”
Two seconds later, in his usually style, he pounded his way down the stairs. I was at the kitchen sink trying to clean the mud crusted shoes off and did not realize Kelan was waiting to greet his older brother at the bottom of the stairs.
“What mom?” Braeden asked from the bottom step.
Seizing the opportunity to add his two cents, Kelan replied with his hands on his hips, “Jus look at these damn shoes, Braeden! They are all muddy!”
*************Sigh. I think I might just take Braeden’s advice and give up. It is after all, what it is- A futile effort. I think it’s been confirmed, I’m not winning mother of the year for 2013.