PJ got in trouble at school yesterday.
For peeing.
Outside.
On a tree.
At school.
Because his mom taught him it's okay to pee outside on a tree -- you know, if we're driving and he has to go, and there's no bathroom, or we're outside playing.
MOTY.
The O'Gs. No, not the Original Gangstas. But close.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
When you can't call Mom
I've been thinking about this a lot lately, but this post on Scary Mommy inspired me to write this today.
I missed my mom a lot yesterday. I miss her every day, of course, but yesterday was one of those days.
It was Memorial Day. She would always have a BBQ on Memorial Day, Labor Day, whatever. We'd go there, she'd make way too much food, encourage us to drink too much. She and I would end up going shopping somewhere where she'd undoubtedly buy something for me -- a shirt, something for my kitchen, whatever it might be.
It's hard being a mom without having your own mom to talk to.
I do have my stepdad, but he never had his own kids. He came into our lives when I was nearly 8. So he has no memories or stories, no advice or experiences, with kids under 8, and even then, he tried to stay out of the parenting, and let my mom do it.
I hear many of my friends talking about their moms.
"My mom said I did the same thing."
"My mom told me to try this."
"My mom just laughed at me."
I never got to share the experience of being a mom with my mom. She was diagnosed with ALS before PJ was three months old. She started to lose her ability to speak/communicate about a year later. I never wanted to bother her with issues with PJ -- she was dealing with a fatal disease.
I have my mother in law. While she's great, and has really stepped up since I lost my mom, she's not MY mom. Luckily, she understands that she will never replace my mom.
I think back to my childhood. We lived with my grandparents till my grandmother passed away when I was 18. Eighteen is young to lose a grandparent, considering my husband who is 32 has three of his four still left and the one passed away when he was 26. But my grandma was there for all my "big stuff", save my wedding and the birth of my children.
My kids get confused when I talk about my mom. PJ vaguely remembers her, but there's not much to remember. All she could do in his memory was sit on the couch. So they see my MIL as grandma and can't understand when I talk about grandma in heaven.
It breaks my heart.
People complain about their parents, or their in-laws. Sometimes their have shitty parents or in-laws that should be complained about. I would trade anything for the worst day I had with my mom.
Being a mom is hard. It's rewarding beyond words. It's the best thing I have ever done, it's the only thing I want to do everyday for the rest of my life. But it's hard. Sometimes I rock being a mom, and sometimes I suck. Sometimes I am confident in my decisions, and sometimes I do nothing but doubt myself.
But every time, I wish I could just talk to my mom.
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I missed my mom a lot yesterday. I miss her every day, of course, but yesterday was one of those days.
It was Memorial Day. She would always have a BBQ on Memorial Day, Labor Day, whatever. We'd go there, she'd make way too much food, encourage us to drink too much. She and I would end up going shopping somewhere where she'd undoubtedly buy something for me -- a shirt, something for my kitchen, whatever it might be.
It's hard being a mom without having your own mom to talk to.
I do have my stepdad, but he never had his own kids. He came into our lives when I was nearly 8. So he has no memories or stories, no advice or experiences, with kids under 8, and even then, he tried to stay out of the parenting, and let my mom do it.
I hear many of my friends talking about their moms.
"My mom said I did the same thing."
"My mom told me to try this."
"My mom just laughed at me."
I never got to share the experience of being a mom with my mom. She was diagnosed with ALS before PJ was three months old. She started to lose her ability to speak/communicate about a year later. I never wanted to bother her with issues with PJ -- she was dealing with a fatal disease.
I have my mother in law. While she's great, and has really stepped up since I lost my mom, she's not MY mom. Luckily, she understands that she will never replace my mom.
I think back to my childhood. We lived with my grandparents till my grandmother passed away when I was 18. Eighteen is young to lose a grandparent, considering my husband who is 32 has three of his four still left and the one passed away when he was 26. But my grandma was there for all my "big stuff", save my wedding and the birth of my children.
My kids get confused when I talk about my mom. PJ vaguely remembers her, but there's not much to remember. All she could do in his memory was sit on the couch. So they see my MIL as grandma and can't understand when I talk about grandma in heaven.
It breaks my heart.
People complain about their parents, or their in-laws. Sometimes their have shitty parents or in-laws that should be complained about. I would trade anything for the worst day I had with my mom.
Being a mom is hard. It's rewarding beyond words. It's the best thing I have ever done, it's the only thing I want to do everyday for the rest of my life. But it's hard. Sometimes I rock being a mom, and sometimes I suck. Sometimes I am confident in my decisions, and sometimes I do nothing but doubt myself.
But every time, I wish I could just talk to my mom.
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Friday, May 17, 2013
Tomorrow...we walk
Tomorrow, we walk to defeat ALS.
In memory of my mom.
Who lost her battle with this horrible disease.
It's too late for her, but it's not late to stop someone else from ever having to hear the words
"You have ALS."
It's only three words.
Three words that have so much meaning.
Three words, that to a person unfamiliar with the disease would think, "this is bad. really bad."
Three words, to a person familiar with the disease would not be able think.
Because they would know that soon.
They won't be able to turn the page of their book.
Soon they won't be able to wash their hair.
Hug their child.
Tie their shoes.
Feed themselves.
Walk.
Breathe.
In memory of my mom.
Who lost her battle with this horrible disease.
It's too late for her, but it's not late to stop someone else from ever having to hear the words
"You have ALS."
It's only three words.
Three words that have so much meaning.
Three words, that to a person unfamiliar with the disease would think, "this is bad. really bad."
Three words, to a person familiar with the disease would not be able think.
Because they would know that soon.
They won't be able to turn the page of their book.
Soon they won't be able to wash their hair.
Hug their child.
Tie their shoes.
Feed themselves.
Walk.
Breathe.
If you want to donate, please click the link below.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Mom, I have a girlfriend.
One day last week, after school, PJ said to me
"Mom, I have a girlfriend?"
"You do? What's her name?"
"Grace."
"What's this whore Grace's deal?"
Yup, that's me. Calling a 5 or 6 year old a whore.
Mother of the year.
"Mom, I have a girlfriend?"
"You do? What's her name?"
"Grace."
"What's this whore Grace's deal?"
Yup, that's me. Calling a 5 or 6 year old a whore.
Mother of the year.
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