some honest thoughts by a mother exhausted by the facebook charade.

so i was about to post some facebook status/instagram pic of the christmas tree we put up today and some sort of allusion to our perfect night watching christmas movies by the light of the tree.
but that wouldn't be fair.
because it would be lying.
today was one of the hardest days of my life.
sure, now i'm sitting in my jammies with a bottle of hard cider and some christmas carols playing, but mere hours ago i thought i was going to lose my mind.
and it's normal to feel that way sometimes.
but looking at facebook, it's all snuggles and educational activities and early bedtimes and homemade snacks and crafts and workouts in between.
we, as parents, put on a charade to the social media world that our parenting experience is bliss in a handbasket and it's not.
and we ALL are aware of that fact.
so can we all just be a little more honest with each other?
i'd be lying if i said i'd never sat crying on the living room couch because the word "poop" held endless possibilities and entertainment for a certain pair of preschoolers who were supposed to be asleep an hour before.
sometimes, our kids can drive us to the edge and all but push us off.
as my friend so perfectly put it: it's something as simple as bedtime, but your sanity hangs in the balance.
it's excruciating, because you can be so unbelievably upset and furious with them but at the same time they're your kids and you love them like nothing you've ever experienced before so you're trapped in this torturous middle region.
and as much as my insecure self wants to tell me that "oh it's just you" i know it's not.
i know every parent's days are filled with good and bad.
sometimes lots and lots of good.
sometimes lots and lots of bad.
so, in an effort to make some other moms and dads feel better about their own daily struggles,
here is what our day consisted of:
1. woke up to the joyous sound of children's laughter before my alarm went off, the boys were playing some version of "house" with their stuffed animals.
2. came out of the bedroom to realize that liam had eaten an entire plate of cookies the neighbor had dropped off.
3. meltdown ensued when i informed him that we could not have candy for breakfast.
4. finally ate breakfast, donovan starts crying because it's bathtime (we usually bathe at night, it's out of the routine, understandable).
5. two-five minutes of cooperative bathtime play, followed by screeching and stealing toys and the decision that bathtime is over. tantrums by both parties.
6. while washing a tearful donovan up, liam decides to retaliate for the shortened bathtime by pouring a plastic watering can full of bathwater on my leg. hand is given a swat, watering can is taken away, indignant tears follow.
7. get donovan dressed, proceed to attempt to get liam out of the bathtub. there is much feigning of weakened limbs and inability to be mobile.
8. everyone is dressed, playing nicely, until the announcement that it's time to put on jackets. as if by magic, liam has once again lost all of his motor skills.
9. with coats finally on, liam is lying facedown in the doorway. he's given a small push on his tush by the tip of my boot, and suddenly he awakens and will not stop screeching "you hit me! you hit me!" so the neighbors can gossip about the one on the second floor who beats her kids.
mommy. is. not. amused.
10. the boys are dropped at daycare (after missing the turn and having to backtrack), and upon arriving at school it comes to my attention that i don't have my books or binders. at least i made it. a half an hour late.
11. pick-up from day care. liam has had numerous time outs for hitting his friends and saying no to his teacher. donovan had to sit by himself at lunch because he wasn't listening.
12. get home, liam's peculiar extremity affliction returns and he's "unable" to transport himself inside. this results in his getting to lay in bed for twenty minutes to "regain his strength" while mommy and donovan rearrange furniture to make room for the tree.
13. bring christmas supplies up from basement. donovan won't stop throwing pillows around, injures liam by accident.
14. liam gets scissors and tries to open smaller tree box (brilliant ingenuity) but when finished tries to cut his own shirt and won't give mommy back the scissors. time out session: 
          "why are you in time out?"
          "NO!" walk away. wait. walk back.
          "are you ready to listen?
          "NO! i don't listen to mommy!" walk away. wait. walk back.
          "are you ready to listen now?"
          "i don't remember!!"
           "well let me know when you remember." walk away. wait. walk back.
           (this goes on for a good ten minutes)
we eventually had dinner, watched a christmas movie, and got to bed at a decent time. but even those things weren't without the occasional tantrum and time-out.
but if i had just posted the picture of us snuggling by the tree you'd get the idea that we were somehow blissfully happy with one another all day, and that wasn't even close to how it went down.
so if you see me post some touchy-feely snuggle picture:
yes, in that moment i was blissfully lost in the wonder that is my beautiful children.
but two minutes before that we probably had a catastrophic meltdown over sibling crayon distribution.
it happens.
and you're not alone.

reasons 3 & 4.

there has been so much going on in our lives lately that i haven't been on top of my blog. so much so that it's rather embarrassing to call it a "blog." i feel like that implies that there's some sort of upkeep, when in reality barely have two seconds to shake a stick at let alone sit down and be witty.

reasons why i'm busy:
1. full-time school.
2. full-time job.
3. a three year old.
4. a four year old.

numbers 3 & 4 come with a considerable amount of clean-up attached.
last week we had birdseed spill all over our floor (someone found a wayward craft project), and due to impeccable timing and the imminent departure for daycare/work it was not cleaned up until about two days later. every time i walk past the kitchen table there's the crunch of a dropped cheerio now found by the sole of my shoe.
also, i should be doing our dishes right now.
(please relay to me your sympathies for a moment as i do NOT a have a dishwasher).

alas, i'm not doing the dishes.
no, i'm going to tell you about liam and his little potty-mouth.
we had this conversation earlier this month:
liam: pillow is stupid.
mommy: liam "stupid" is not a nice word, we don't say that word.
liam: stupid, stupid, stupid!
donovan: liam, when we say that word it hurts Jesus's feelings.

i didn't really have much to follow up with after that, donovan kind of rocked that one.
speaking of donovan and grasping the whole "Jesus/God" concept, we were sitting in the bathroom (because let's recall that there is no such thing as privacy/solo bathroom time when you have small children) and this happened:
donovan: mommy, was i made?
mommy: what do you mean, sweet-pea?
(yes, i have taken to calling him sweet-pea...is that too feminine???)
donovan: i was made.
mommy: yes, do you know who made you?
donovan: God did!!

it was beautiful i cried a little bit.

then we're walking inside from the car just a few days ago and van says to me, "mommy, can God hear us even when we're inside??" and continued to giggle and smile and get so excited when i told him that God can hear him anywhere and he can ask him for help whenever he needs it. he thought it was pretty dang cool.

sigh.
not to do a total one-eighty, but remember liam the potty-mouth? well luckily we don't have much trouble with him repeating things more than once. it's more of a "can i get away with this?" then "nope guess not" and he never says it again.
one of the biggest problems is i have trouble keeping a straight face when things come out of his mouth.
for example, we were sitting at the kitchen table coloring the other day, and.....
van: i'm going to use the red crayon for his wheels.
liam: you're shitting me donovan. you're shitting somebody.
(are you kidding me!!?!? i immediately let out a snort)
mommy: liam! that is not a nice thing to say. those are mean words.
donovan: what words mommy?
mommy: um, er...the ones liam, just, er, nevermind donovan keep coloring. liam!
liam: what mommy?
mommy: we do not say those words, liam.

i haven't heard anything out of him since. it's like he tries it out, it backfires, and he moves on. then he's back to being the little boy who tucks in his stuffed animals at night and likes to hold onto your arm when he sleeps and will follow you anywhere if you're holding his hand.

it's so beautiful and amazing and scary and wonderful and terrifying to watch them grow. 

it's such an incredible miracle when i sit and think: i grew you inside my tummy!! how freaking incredible is that?? you used to be a single cell inside of me and now you're writing your name and coloring inside the lines and counting to thirty.

how could something so incredible be anything other than a gift from God?