Mom is a Loaded Word

For a long time I really wasn't sure whether I wanted to be a mom. I remember bar-tending and couples with young kids would come in asking for virgin daiquiris and if we had a kids' menu. I was thinking the whole time, take your kids to Chik-Fil-A, we are a bar!!! Or the times I walked out of school on a rough week Friday evening and was SOOOOOOO happy I wouldn't have to see another kid for 48 hours. I was only responsible for me, and I didn't even do a very good job at that!

When J had Lilly, my feelings changed. There are no words for how much I loved that little girl. Even with all the love I had for her, I still took her into a liquor store on my hip with no shoes. I banged her sweet little head on the top of the car at least a dozen times trying to get her into that damn car seat, and probably gave her food that she wasn't supposed to have until certain milestones. I was the very loving, very good intention-ed, crazy aunt.

Now I have 2 of my own. More times than I should admit, I am driving and looking in my rear view mirror at 2 sets of striking blue eyes, thinking....they belong to me. I am their MOM. I am the one that is responsible for their happiness, safety, morals, manners, nutrition, boo-boos, O.M.G the list goes on! I think, I am not that old. I think, I am not that responsible. I think, Jesus take this wheel!

I honestly don't think I have 100% of that mom "gene". I have a track record to prove it. Lawson was 5 days old and we took her to her 1st pediatric appointment. It was snowing and we started the car probably an hour before we put her in it. We zipped her up in the bucket seat blanket, we made sure she was fed and dry. Then we proceeded to drive 10 miles an hour to the appointment. We checked in, Lawson was still asleep, and we were high-fiving each other at this awesome parenting we were doing. Then she pooped. No big deal, right? By then I had changed at least 100 diapers. Sure, but WE DIDN'T BRING A DIAPER BAG!!! We had to "borrow" supplies for the doctor's office all the while wishing we could take back all that confidence and crawl into a hole where we would pray that social services wouldn't be called on our novice parenting asses.

When Levi came around, I definitely felt more comfortable, but maybe I shouldn't have. I picked them up from Cheryl's one day and it was a torrential downpour. I raced Lawson to the car first under the umbrella and got her strapped in. I then ran back for Levi and clipped his bucket seat in, not a drop of water on either one of them. I went snail speed all the way home. I could barely see anything. My palms were sweating, I was praying the whole time. We made it home and I couldn't wait to get my babies in the house. When I set Levi's car seat down and went to grab him out, I was horrified. My heart sank, and I started to cry. I NEVER BUCKLED HIM!! He was sitting with the straps on, but not clasped. I couldn't even bring myself to tell Nick what I had done. I beat myself for DAYS over that one. (Still kind of am, if I'm being honest.)

Last summer we had a bunch of consecutive rainy days. I had cabin fever and really needed to get the kids out of the house. Even though at that point, I have had 2 years practice taking 2 kids out and about, it still gives me anxiety. I managed to brush my teeth and get my hair knots out of sight and in a bun, but there was never time to shower, let alone for makeup in the summer. I got to the indoor playground, and there was a line. I thought, ok, we can do this. I have snacks, water, juice, and my best mommy happy face, it's all good. Levi steals the gold fish from under the stroller in front of us and begins to eat them, and it starts to rain. 45 minutes in line and we are in. It's hot and crowded. Levi is crying because he sees the slide but can't just run to yet, neither of them understanding that mommy still needs to pay. Even though my upper lip is sweating, I am still pretty confident. I had been able to repay the goldfish, and I had remembered to pack socks! WINNING!

15 minutes later, I am pitting out through my shirt. Levi went up the slide ramp and never came back down. As I am trying to play it cool, because where could he have gone- it's just up a slide, he has to come down- I have made eye contact with a former intern from decades ago who is handling the chaos of the place way better than I. She refers to me as Ms. Lilly and has that look on her face like, "I almost didn't recognize your old and sweaty ass" Then a fluorescent green shirt is walking toward me with a screaming Levi in her arms, saying, "Is this your mommy, honey? I found him at the top of the slide, crying"I smile very nicely and act as though I am completely Ok with this chain events, thinking - Thanks lady, I knew he was up there, if you weren't 500 kids over capacity, I might have heard him crying myself.

As if that wasn't bad enough, I then spy a person I went to high school with sipping coffee with a buddy looking so calm and collected and actually looking like she's having fun in this hell hole! After the hour of torture, I forced them to the exit. Moms are all kumbaya on mats they brought from home eating snacks and peanut free shit. I thought, you know what? I brought snacks, we can sit and have a snack too. I proceeded to hand out gold fish, teddy grams, gummies, and drinks. Then another (not sweating and fresh-makeup) mom came into the room and says to her brood, "lets sanitize before we eat anything." Shit! I didn't think about sanitizing, now my kids are going to have hand/foot/mouth because, again, I wasn't thinking like a, "mom".

Lawson recently turned 5 and we had a kid party at Totsville. I stressed over goody bags, food, decorations, balloons, wanting everything to be perfect....but forgot to bring forks!

Even though I might have been given a half-gene when it comes to mommying, I wouldn't trade this role for any other job in the world. When my Lawson tells me, "You're the best mommy in the world" and when Levi looks at me and says, "Lub you, Mommy", everything else melts away.

My household is far from perfect, but we laugh. We laugh and giggle and joke ALL THE TIME. My kids will most likely not remember that I sometimes made them brush their teeth in the car with sippy cups of water, (just swish its around and swallow it down guys) but they will remember that we danced (A LOT) and made our sides hurt with laughter.