Sugar and Spice

The Brown girls have had an eventful week. Hubby has been at a conference in Vegas all week (listen closely, there are no sad, sad violins playing for him). While he was gone, I turned 35. That's all there is to say about that. Also while he has been gone, Bug has had a mystery bug which delayed her starting her second daycare in one month after being yanked from the first one due to verbal abuse. And, somewhere in there, we celebrated Martin Lever King Day. As I previously reported, daycare #1 didn't get off to a great start. That was to be expected. Unfortunately, the bad start turned into worse and worse days the longer we stayed with it. The bad days turned into bad nights as she dreaded the morning. Suspicions were high, but I pushed that mother's intuition down. But then Nona paid a surprise visit to pick her up and walked in on a teacher screaming "SHUT UP" and my little Bug crying. No wonder she hated it so much. Sadly, it all started to make way to...

There's an anonymous prayer that makes its way around the internet and gets posted on office refrigerators called either A Prayer for Today or Morning Prayer. It's a tongue-in-cheek prayer about how perfect the speaker has been and ends with the revelation that he or she has not even gotten out of bed yet. Like most humor, it's funny because it is true. Like most truth, it stings a little. I'm the best mother I can be in the morning. I feel full of hope (at least once I'm full of coffee). I have plans for joy, learning, sharing, and loving. I drop my kids off and cannot wait to see them again. Then life happens. Then 5 o'clock rolls around. Most days I'm no longer the mother I want to be. I've got hungry, wound up tiny people literally hanging on me, both talking at the same time, asking for snacks, telling me of their days, all while I'm trying to go through mail and cook dinner. That's when I turn into a mother I'm embarrassed...

Apparently the best laid plans of mamas are much like those of mice and men. Last night was no exception. We've been sucked into the polar vortex. It's freezing. It's hard to get out of bed and all I want to do is drink hot chocolate. We're already jamming Christmas tunes in the car. It's that cold. It's so cold, in fact, that on the way to school yesterday I told Pumpkin I was already thinking about getting back in my jammies. So I made big plans for the Browns to get home from work and get in jammies, light a fire, and have grilled cheese and chili while we watch Christmas movies. So, I got home. We took baths. We were in jammies before 6 PM.  Hubby made grilled cheese and chili.  Holiday Inn was on Turner Classic Movies. The scene was set for my perfect cold night in. The girls, of course, had other plans. They were berserk. They couldn't get along for more than two minutes. They wouldn't eat. They were tired. They were hungry for anything...

It will never cease to amaze me how two sisters from the same parents, raised in the same household, who even look alike can be so very different. Yet in their differences, they have the same profound effects on their little old mama. They exhaust me to the point of thinking I might drop while simultaneously keeping me on the tip of my toes, and my heart full. Browns Unplugged has been a success. We have had quite a month, as Boo Boo turned two and fall began to roll in. Pumpkin was telling the sitter that she was going to attend her first football game earlier this week. With hands, hip, and head bobbing she explained to her that it will be her first football game and told her matter-of-factly: "I've been having a lot of firsts. I had a first school bus ride, a first football game..." She didn't note the irony in my voice when I told her that happens when you're four. She continues to push and stretch me as I learn to parent by parenting her. As much...

There's something renewing about Sunday morning. The Christian Sabbath. It's the one morning we have nowhere to be until Church. There's extra cups of coffee. Playing before the chores of getting dressed and ready. Time is a little slower on Sunday morning. We sit down to breakfast. We talk and laugh. This particular Sunday feels particularly hopeful. There's a crisp cool air outside. We are coming off a good week. Things are clicking again. Cautiously, but clicking nonetheless. Hubby has taken the girls for their weekly donut date this morning. It's usually on Saturday but we had an early morning 5K, so they're cashing in their rain check. That leaves mama here with a cup of coffee and silence. My first prayer when I sat down was to thank God for his blessings. I keep coming back to that feeling of being blessed. And every time I do I think of this article:  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/scott-dannemiller/christians-should-stop-saying_b_4868963.html S...

Losing control is not always as easy to spot as one might think. If you're still and quiet enough - present enough - you will notice the frenetic beat of your heart, but the chaos is not always as obvious as one might think chaos should be. I recently found myself in the middle of that sneaky dark chaos. I actually found our entire little family there and we didn't even realize where we were. It started innocently enough. I had surgery. It was a success (thank God) but I'm still recovering. Mama-try-to-do-everything became Mama-can't-do-anything. I had tons of wonderful help, including Hubby, but it wasn't the same. There was nothing concrete - the girls were fed, bathed, played with, loved. I thought they were fine. But it wasn't the same. Then school started and with school, football. Hubby had obligations outside the home. I encouraged him to do it despite his better judgment (he considered taking the year off while I recovered). I still had the mind...

I have learned so much in the past week.  I have learned that I am not a superhero.  I have learned that I cannot do everything.  I have learned that sometimes you have to let others do for you and that I have lots of others who love me enough to just that.  I have learned that I am married to a pretty darn amazing man.  And I have learned that humble pie doesn't taste that bad. See, I thought this surgery was going to go down differently.  I thought I was going to be the super-patient who leapt off the surgery table and danced a jig. I thought I'd be home in record time.  I thought I'd be able to do things myself as soon as I got home.  I thought I'd be back in the office on Monday. Instead, I had blood pressure complications and ended up not walking for much longer than even the "normal" APLF patient (much less the super ones). Instead, I had blood loss issues that made me stay in the hospital and away from my girls a day long...