Love is enduring hours of back labor and an unscheduled c-section and forgetting all about the pain when you finally lay eyes on your first born.
Love is deciding to do it all over again.
Love is missing those little buggers when you can finally pee in peace.
Love is not getting grossed out by poop, vomit, and snot.
Love is watching your children laugh together.
Love is wanting to take away their pain.
Love is hating yourself for yelling.
Love is seeing yourself in your child's eyes.
Love is reading the same book. Over. And over. And over.
Love is pretending to eat the same cake. Again. And again. And again.
Love is knowing they'll always need you.
Love is often impatient and unkind.
Love is going overboard at Christmas when you swore you wouldn't.
Love is making sure they get the very best.
Love is unconditional.
Love is sticking to your morals.
Love is sleepless nights.
Love is wanting to make each birthday better than the last.
Love is spending hours assembling a toy car.
Love is gray hairs and under eye circles.
Love is kissing every boo boo.
Love is wiping away every tear.
Love is wanting to be their hero.
Love is watching them grow and wishing time could slow down, just for a moment.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
'Tis The Season
A Mommy Is Made has been on hiatus for awhile.
Not because I didn't want to write. But because I just haven't had the time. Or the energy. Or the patience.
But it's a season of hope and joy and giving and love. A season of believing.
I'm reminded of that every time I look at my children. Every morning that Mackenzie runs downstairs, anxiously searching for the Elf on the Shelf.
She cooked him breakfast this morning. And was delighted to find that -- after several hours -- the Elf had eaten everything she had prepared for him. The apple juice, the milk, the vegetables, the fruit, the pasta... I can go on and on.
Not because I didn't want to write. But because I just haven't had the time. Or the energy. Or the patience.
But it's a season of hope and joy and giving and love. A season of believing.
I'm reminded of that every time I look at my children. Every morning that Mackenzie runs downstairs, anxiously searching for the Elf on the Shelf.
She cooked him breakfast this morning. And was delighted to find that -- after several hours -- the Elf had eaten everything she had prepared for him. The apple juice, the milk, the vegetables, the fruit, the pasta... I can go on and on.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Project Street Festival
Street festivals...
One of many things you do with children in an effort to prove to yourself that you can still live a normal life.
Welcome to the NEW normal...
Last Saturday the Rohrbeck clan ventured a county over (!) to a community event that was advertised as "kid friendly". What an oxymoron.
Not that I believe kids to be unfriendly. I just don't see any fun in toting a toddler and an infant to a crowded street fair in 80 degree weather during lunch and nap time.
The parking!
The lines!
The traffic!
We were doomed.
One of many things you do with children in an effort to prove to yourself that you can still live a normal life.
Welcome to the NEW normal...
Last Saturday the Rohrbeck clan ventured a county over (!) to a community event that was advertised as "kid friendly". What an oxymoron.
Not that I believe kids to be unfriendly. I just don't see any fun in toting a toddler and an infant to a crowded street fair in 80 degree weather during lunch and nap time.
The parking!
The lines!
The traffic!
We were doomed.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Dear Major Grocery Store Chain,
Thank you for being there today...
When I needed to do a quick run after Mackenzie's gym class and before lunchtime and nap time.
The produce department at your Springfield, VA location rivals that of any other supermarket in my immediate area.
Unfortunately my "quick" trip turned into an epic event I'd like to forget as soon as this blog post is published.
For one thing, please add some cart returns to your massive parking lot so I don't have to leave two screaming children in my car while I sprint back to the store so as not to be a royal a-hole to other customers. (No, I won't just leave my cart in the lot. Not so much for the sake of principle. It's more a matter of fear... Fear that someone I know will catch me and discover that I am, in fact, an a-hole).
Next...
If you're capable of having 15 checkout lanes please have some common courtesy and open more than one of those lanes to paying customers. And no, self-checkout lanes don't count.
While we're at it... How about a little time management training for your various employees who - instead of manning the vacant registers - pretend to be doing some sort of work as they aimlessly peruse each aisle.
I must have had six different people ask if I was finding everything OK, when all I really needed was someone to get my groceries rung up in less than five minutes.
Newsflash - this wasn't my first time in a grocery store. I think I can figure out where the milk is, thanks.
I can go on and on with my complaints but I'm a lady and won't crap all over your store because the truth is I will continue to shop there.
But how about a little bedside manner for those roving employees who were all too concerned with my five-month-old screaming bloody murder.
No, he was not sick. He was hungry and tired.
Yes, I do know that there's no milk coming out of his thumb when he sucks it.
Yes, I do realize that my toddler has thrown her empty squeezable fruit pouch on the floor. Twice.
No, I'm not having a great day.
Yes, I do have my hands full. Thank you, Captain Obvious.
Signed,
Disgruntled Customer and Mom of Two
When I needed to do a quick run after Mackenzie's gym class and before lunchtime and nap time.
The produce department at your Springfield, VA location rivals that of any other supermarket in my immediate area.
Unfortunately my "quick" trip turned into an epic event I'd like to forget as soon as this blog post is published.
For one thing, please add some cart returns to your massive parking lot so I don't have to leave two screaming children in my car while I sprint back to the store so as not to be a royal a-hole to other customers. (No, I won't just leave my cart in the lot. Not so much for the sake of principle. It's more a matter of fear... Fear that someone I know will catch me and discover that I am, in fact, an a-hole).
Next...
If you're capable of having 15 checkout lanes please have some common courtesy and open more than one of those lanes to paying customers. And no, self-checkout lanes don't count.
While we're at it... How about a little time management training for your various employees who - instead of manning the vacant registers - pretend to be doing some sort of work as they aimlessly peruse each aisle.
I must have had six different people ask if I was finding everything OK, when all I really needed was someone to get my groceries rung up in less than five minutes.
Newsflash - this wasn't my first time in a grocery store. I think I can figure out where the milk is, thanks.
I can go on and on with my complaints but I'm a lady and won't crap all over your store because the truth is I will continue to shop there.
But how about a little bedside manner for those roving employees who were all too concerned with my five-month-old screaming bloody murder.
No, he was not sick. He was hungry and tired.
Yes, I do know that there's no milk coming out of his thumb when he sucks it.
Yes, I do realize that my toddler has thrown her empty squeezable fruit pouch on the floor. Twice.
No, I'm not having a great day.
Yes, I do have my hands full. Thank you, Captain Obvious.
Signed,
Disgruntled Customer and Mom of Two
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Who Needs Perfection?
Lately I've been humbled...
Reminded that I am NOT a perfect mother or housekeeper.
I waited too long for a diaper change and Braden had a massive blowout. Out of the diaper, up the back, down the leg.
I accidentally deleted Mackenzie's second favorite "Olivia" episode from the DVR.
My floors are sticky.
There are enough dust bunnies under the couch to stuff a duvet (Remember duvets? I haven't had the time or patience for one of those in years.)
Clean clothes sit in my dryer for days.
I've reused sippy cups.
I've served chocolate milk over regular milk more times than I care to admit.
Lunch for Mackenzie often consists of whatever I can put on a plate in T-minus five seconds.
There's crusted spit up on the car seat straps (AGAIN).
Mackenzie burned herself on a lamp in my bedroom because I told her she needed to leave the nursery while I put Braden to sleep.
Thanks to postpartum hormones my hair loss is officially out of control and my bathroom floor looks like Big Foot spent the night on it.
Even the pizza delivery guy chastised me for not watering the flowers on my front steps.
But...
The pediatrician was astonished by Braden's weight gain at his appointment the other day. Little Man is back up to the 20th percentile and is doing just great.
And Mackenzie can't seem to get enough baby spinach and tomatoes.
She even turned down the notion of an ice cream run today and opted instead for an ACTUAL run on the trail behind our house. Naturally, she talked me into some jumping jacks and burpees along the way.
So tonight when I go to bed and think about the dead impatiens and the dirty hardwood floors and the wrinkled laundry I'll take solace in the fact that my kids are happy and healthy. What more could a less-than-perfect mommy ask for?
Reminded that I am NOT a perfect mother or housekeeper.
I waited too long for a diaper change and Braden had a massive blowout. Out of the diaper, up the back, down the leg.
I accidentally deleted Mackenzie's second favorite "Olivia" episode from the DVR.
My floors are sticky.
There are enough dust bunnies under the couch to stuff a duvet (Remember duvets? I haven't had the time or patience for one of those in years.)
Clean clothes sit in my dryer for days.
I've reused sippy cups.
I've served chocolate milk over regular milk more times than I care to admit.
Lunch for Mackenzie often consists of whatever I can put on a plate in T-minus five seconds.
There's crusted spit up on the car seat straps (AGAIN).
Mackenzie burned herself on a lamp in my bedroom because I told her she needed to leave the nursery while I put Braden to sleep.
Thanks to postpartum hormones my hair loss is officially out of control and my bathroom floor looks like Big Foot spent the night on it.
Even the pizza delivery guy chastised me for not watering the flowers on my front steps.
But...
The pediatrician was astonished by Braden's weight gain at his appointment the other day. Little Man is back up to the 20th percentile and is doing just great.
And Mackenzie can't seem to get enough baby spinach and tomatoes.
She even turned down the notion of an ice cream run today and opted instead for an ACTUAL run on the trail behind our house. Naturally, she talked me into some jumping jacks and burpees along the way.
So tonight when I go to bed and think about the dead impatiens and the dirty hardwood floors and the wrinkled laundry I'll take solace in the fact that my kids are happy and healthy. What more could a less-than-perfect mommy ask for?
Monday, August 6, 2012
We. Are. Mom.
I used to write this blog with great ease and efficiency. That was back before Mackenzie spent the day asking me a million questions about unimportant things and insisting that she dress herself. And before I had another baby.
Now things aren't so simple. But today served as a reminder for why I started writing this "living" journal in the first place. So as not to forget. I never wanted to forget this experience. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
Now things aren't so simple. But today served as a reminder for why I started writing this "living" journal in the first place. So as not to forget. I never wanted to forget this experience. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
10 Things I Never Thought I'd Let My Toddler Do
1) Eat candy at breakfast (gimme a break, she was sick)
2) Listen to the Beastie Boys
3) Watch more than an hour of TV in one day
4) Play in the medicine cabinet (relax, she was supervised)
5) Have her own iPhone (in my defense it doesn't have full service)
6) Prance around the house naked
7) Eat in her bed, her car seat, or her stroller
8) Have her own Facebook page (kidding!!!)
9) Sit in a restaurant high chair without a protective cover (gasp!)
10) See me cry
2) Listen to the Beastie Boys
3) Watch more than an hour of TV in one day
4) Play in the medicine cabinet (relax, she was supervised)
5) Have her own iPhone (in my defense it doesn't have full service)
6) Prance around the house naked
7) Eat in her bed, her car seat, or her stroller
8) Have her own Facebook page (kidding!!!)
9) Sit in a restaurant high chair without a protective cover (gasp!)
10) See me cry
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