A Conspiracy Of Mutiny

There are foul dealings afoot. The two angry, short gentlemen in my house, have been plotting and planning. Of course you may consider me to be a raging lunatic by the accusations, but you would only be partially right. I have a snaking suspicion that my children are planning something big; my tape is missing and my 5 year old is a little too interested in my tape measure. I should also mention that I was double teamed mercilessly today, with potty training accidents and "the snack cabinet thief". You can only imagine the shear signs of amusement on their faces, as mommy completely lost her motherly decorum.
Either the mental trauma was too overwhelming, or my equilibrium was off when I tried to answer the remote and change the channel with the phone. Yes; it's been one of those days. The kind of day when you're expecting a "grown up" to come in and take over, and you can go back to the days you went to your room and buried your face in a good book. It's scary at times to know that there is no mommy and daddy to run to with these responsibilities. You have to fix every problem, mend whats broken, and make boo-boos feel better, all the while, your belongings are being broken, your problems go unfixed, and your boo-boos make you limp, but you press on.
As they conspire to raid the snack cabinet, and urinate on your rug, you think to yourself, "These days won't last forever." Because in the back of your mind, you know there will come a time when they won't want to stick around you long enough to do any of those things. Right now you are their interpreter in the world, you give them an understanding of how things work, and even when you don't have an answer, you can change the subject and teach them something else.
So what do you do when it appears to them that others have all of the answers? Well, the only thing to do is hold their hand, and hold it tightly, because it's hard for the others to stare a person that is already being led.If we can keep them in touch with all of their five senses, they will have balance. Let them "see" the beauty in all, "hear" the truth in what is right, "taste" the sweetness of love, "smell" crap from a mile away, and "feel" pain so that they may learn lessons. Pushing your child, in reality, literally means you are pushing them away. (I don't think I need to post the definition of the word push.)
Well blog; I am sleepy, and I should probably rest up, this bird never catches the worm. So I better go so I can catch my 5 year old "snack cabinet bandit" ;-D

Drowning In A Potty

Out of the hardest challenges I have had so far; potty training happens to be my nemesis. Before having children, I already had it in my mind that potty training would be the one thing that would test my patience. Give me attitude, give me the silent treatment, but don't give me urine on my beige rug. I make you feel like a big boy, son, and I buy you undies. So why do you stand a mere foot away from your potty and just "go"? I am leaning towards the notion that you never forgave me for those chocolates you wanted earlier that I denied you.
What ever the reason, I am constantly walking around like a hunting blood hound, in search of urine. He's constantly running here and running there, it's like some weird "find the spot" game. As I am writing now, he is trying to inch slowly but surely off of his potty. With being the youngest of the bunch, I would have thought it would be a bit more easier. When potty training began, I was optimistic and completely at ease. I now feel I was being naive. Each child is different in their own right and should not be "expected" to learn any new lessons at a certain rate. Yay me!! My mommy lesson of the day.
On another note, I am due for therapy. I have been putting it off, and being a cheapskate long enough. It is time to go shopping!! "Where are you going?", you may be asking yourself, well I can tell you it's no where extravagant. My therapy can sometimes consist of a very good dollar store, and I'll be content as a swaddled new born babe. Maybe it's a woman thing that most average men just don't get about us.There is a history of complaints from the mens department, saying we take too long to shop. They just don't understand that "special" feeling we get once we lay eyes on those "ON SALE" signs. Most women, even if only subconsciously, want everything. I'm quite sure plenty of us would outwardly deny any allegations, until of course we are faced with an "ON SALE" sign. ;-D Ah, to be a lady!!
So in short, I will not let the potty training monster beat me; I have some therapy to look forward to. Ha! Take that! Mommy-1, Potty training-0

Cabin Fever

It's been a "blah blah" day to add to my "blah blah" weekend. I could rant on about the heat and being stuck in the house with a 5 year old and 2 year old, but it really wasn't that interesting today. The heat knocked my 2 year old out for a good nap, but my 5 year old was wide awake complaining about being hot, like I wasn't standing in the same room. I don't know if he thought it was some sick new torture tactic, but he wasn't happy with "ME" over the temperature of the day. Well that's parenting right? Just a preview I guess of the finger pointing he will go through, insha allah, I guess when he's older.
I guess I'll go on and admit it, and tell you that I'm a cheapskate. Though I have central air, masha Allah, most of the time I open all of the windows and put the ceiling fan on high. It's really not all that bad if you are sitting still, so for most of the day, when my son complained to me in his condescending tone, I told him he had to stay still to keep cool. Hey; he treats me like it's my fault for the heat, and I treat him like it's his fault he's so hot. It's the only defense I have to support my cheapskate tactic.
Now don't misunderstand, this is no weird form of torture, it all levels out in the end. If it's a humid day, I'll go on use the central air, but on an average hot day, I don't feel the need to use it. His reality of his mother being a "super mom" only stems from "super saving". That and a bit of an imagination. It's just sacrifices that he is totally unaware of. With so many popular toys out there, I may not always be able to afford them, so I look for unique toys that not many have but are cool. Masha Allah, so far I have been doing a pretty good job.
Well; unfortunately, I am quite sure it's obvious that I am suffering from writers block. Even to write this has been a moment of insanity. To write and erase over and over is madness. So I just started writing exactly what I was feeling. Don't worry if it doesn't make sense to you, because most of what I do doesn't make much sense to me until well later. ;-) Maybe I should have made the name of the blog "Ramblings Of A Mad Woman", but that's a bit long winded. So since my mind is still clouded, I'll just end it here. Ta-Ta to all. (If anyone ever reads this.)

Playing Tag With My Thoughts

Yesterday was a day of defeat.I had a headache so bad, I could have surely accused the children of being "Scanners". It was the kind of Migraine that makes you ask your oldest child, "Hey sweety, are you sure you remember how to dial 911?".Of course you are not trying to cause any panic, but it's just one of those headaches. It's amazing how mothers,(some mothers), can work on autopilot under almost any distress. Along with my humongous headache, came a side order of coughing and runny nose from my 2 year old. I have the ability to look at our ailments as "germy" little enemies invading our bodies. It's trippy that my kids enjoy taking medicine, they want to fight off the germs and get better. Isn't it amazing that if you tell them the true story of what's going on with their body, and use a little imagination, that they can be so accepting?
Needless to say, my little sick "Captor" is still holding me hostage.There are now pauses for him to cough when he's babbling in his baby talk. My 5 year old has reached an all time high in his arrogant phase.The phrases, "I've made my mind up" and "You have to clean my room, you clean the living room." has had a belittling affect on me.I would ask him who does he think he is, in my indignant adult voice, but I know from experience he'll only tell me exactly who he is. Makes you wonder if it's childhood innocence, or plain sarcasm. What ever the reason is, I can only appreciate my sons intelligence. Although used against me at times, I can really feel his hunger to consume as much knowledge as he possibly can. You have the kids who ask the "why" questions, and then you have the kids who take things upon themselves to research the "why". That's my boy; the kid who was blessed with not only book smarts, but street smarts. How did this come about, I'll never know.I some how don't think it is meant for me to know.

"Where have you been?!"

Well, what can I say? I've been gone for quite a long time. Masha Allah Between moving to a new place, and one of my sons moving with his father, there could be plenty to talk about. But the reality is, there is nothing to talk about. It's just as cut and dry as I wrote, believe it or not. I live a quiet, simple, "not much to talk about", kind of life. My adventure in motherhood still continues, and it gets more interesting by the second. I'm so old fashioned, I am beginning to feel I am withering away at times, and other times I am so thankful for my"old fashioned" views. Things have happened in the past year that has definitely brought me closer to my lord. Wa Al-humdulillah. I have found peace, and tranquility that makes me yearn for simplicity. My treat for my self comes ALMOST every evening, when I tuck my mini me's into bed, and I indulge in studies and ice cream. Yes, simple I know, but with so many other extra things, they come with extra problems.
Of course, I am not a professional writer, nor do I have any expectations of making a big deal out of this. But there was a time when I was down in the dumps, and a blog by an "average mom" made me feel like raising children is an adventure and not issues that are just in the way. If I can return the favor to some other mom, then a chain can get started. :-D We can all look at our children and say, "Come on you little person, give me your best shot!" Lets match the little people with our wit and imagination. After all, we were once little people ourselves, and suffered with boredom, power struggle, and peers. If we can relate more, it makes it more of an adventure than a job. We need those nights back when we made a makeshift tent in the living room and "camped out" all night. Lets bring back our senses, because we've lost the love of that squishy feeling of mud or slime. Where did it go? I have these constant questions in the back of my mind that says, "Why do I look at the same objects, places, or people, and can't seem to see the same things any longer?" And then it hits me every time I wonder these questions; life beat the crap out of me.
I am a grown up, and when I was a kid, I looked at that as power. I made constant promises to myself to take one night and just pig out on junk, because grown ups said I would get sick. I've become a grown up and still haven't had a "junk" night. But, in my young adult years, I've drink myself into a good hang over and have gotten sick. Ah, the irony of the matter, I've become what I use to think was so lame. But guess what, it's never too late. If we take our intelligence we've gained over the years, and remain responsible, and let loose those little people we were, what an adventure it can be!