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? 

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.