Disappearing Act

6 kids.

7 hockey practices a week. 

10 hockey games a week.

2 gymnastics practices.

3 days of Parent Participation Preschool.

1 each PAC Meeting, Bible Study, Church Service, Nursery

21 meals for 8 (or 9 if the neighbour kid shows up again) to prepare.  21 snacks for many to provide. 

1 trip to the bathroom every 20 minutes for every waking hour of the day for each girl, spaced 10 minutes apart just to keep things interesting.

And somewhere in there I have to grocery shop, do laundry, parent (ugh! Teenagers! ugh!) and then try to remember I blog. 

Things have been busy.  Some good.  Some bad.  Some awful.  Some wonderful.  My parenting skills have been stretched and my ability to take care of myself enhanced.  I am learning to reach out more to those who have walked this road before me.  Honestly, I did not understand how emotionally devastating parenting teenagers could be.  And not because they are doing anything BAD but simply just by the their very existence in a brain disordered state of craziness that is apparently perfectly normal when you are a teen.  And perfectly horrifying when you are a mom. 

I love my children but these prickly porcupine alien creatures who have taken over their bodies?  They can leave anytime and give me back my sanity when they do. What makes me cry is to realize that before I am done, I will have been parenting teenagers for 21 straight years.  If  am this exhausted 3 years into it, who or what will I be in another 18 years?  The gray hair is quite literally popping onto my head.

We are seizing the moments between hockey trips to squeeze in good memories and celebrate the joy that comes in raising a large family.   There will be a time, short months or years away when I will ache for all my children to be sleeping under one roof.  I know that.  I know it at a cellular level and so I remind myself to be present.  I am a good mom.  I love my children more than my own life.  I know, deep down behind their resentment of my mere presence and horrific insistence of eating supper together and not beating up their brothers, that they love me too. I have been told that chances are the aliens inhabiting will leave and my God-fearing, kind, sweet and loving sons will return, although much older, wiser and hopefully living independently and paying their own bills.  A mother is allowed to dream.

Enjoy the happy moments!

And it's not totally on accident that there are no pictures of smiling teenagers to add to today's post.

Not So Smart Teenagers

Dear Teenagers,

If you are in the kitchen singing along to your IPOD and the words you are singing include the phrase "She's a Sexy Girl" and your mother asks to see the song you are listening to, and by the time you bring it to her, the song playing is titled "I Walk The Way of Jesus" your mother might figure out that you changed the song.

Denying this is futile. I love my new IPOD. Thanks.

Love,

Mom

My Second Teenager

It seems like only yesterday he arrived in my life and in my heart. A tiny, snuggly, overwhelmingly hard to parent toddler that taught me more than I ever thought I could learn about what it means to be a mom, a REAL mom, to a child that REALLY needs you.

My complicated, fun, smiley, amazing, difficult, challenging, bright, witty, active, intense, emotional baby boy is now a teenager. And I love him with all my heart. Happy Birthday Sunshine.

Question of the day

Greg: "Mom it says here that a lion can only eat 94 pounds of meat
in one sitting. Does that mean he wouldn't be able to finish me
off?"

Me: "Huh? Ah, yeah... I guess? Maybe you are really just 94 pounds of meat and 60 pounds of bone so probably he could eat most of you"

Greg: "Sweet" (standard response to every comment made to G-Baby these days)

It should be noted we live in the NORTH. The fear of a lion eating you for lunch is rather random, but you might freeze to death walking to school in that stupid hoody you refuse to put a coat over. I suppose 13 year olds aren't known for being the brighest bulbs in the box.

Admittedly, working in a Grade 6 & 7 class I get asked a multitude of really idiotic questions every day, usually along the lines of "Mrs. CommonSense do you have a pencil I can borrow? or "Is this for MARKS?" or "That was due TODAY?"

But THIS wins for today's unexpectedly bizarre question.