Gratitude With Attitude...the loving Mommy edition

My Dearest Children,

Thank you for being such big helpers since Mommy hurt herself. Sure, I fell down the stairs in my haste to break up your fight...but, I blame nobody but myself. Mommy is in awe by the way you have picked up the slack by helping with the babies. Mommy is too high on pain medication to notice that *none* of your chores are getting done because you are playing with babies so that they don't 'saddle up' on her bad ankle.

Even though your toys are so strewn all over the floors (AND STAIRS!!!) in such a manner to prevent Mommy from being able to safely navigate her way on crutches, I am too grateful for the way you are, "watching TLL" and iCarly all at the same time to care. Really. You are little princes and princesses among mankind.

I would like to give an extra grateful shout out to the way you are keeping my mind sharp, by hiding your dirty clothes and forcing me to crawl around on all fours, plotting the path of least pain, as I go. As I make my 30th trip up and down the stairs today carrying your dirty clothes...I just want to say thanks.

There is the matter of your missing the bus that I would also like to address. The two of my children who were smart enough yesterday to 'forget' to set their alarms, and then sighed dramatically and said, "Too bad you're too hurt to drive us," as you eagerly grabbed the remote and cereal box...I KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. That was why I dubbed yesterday, "Annual Spring Clean For Mommy, Because She Can't Day." I will admit that you did foil me by convincing your older brother to try the same trick today. His story was that his bus was early, and he "just missed it, too bad I can't drive him to school." Not only was I unpleasantly surprised, but, so was he. He is claiming that I hate him because I didn't bake him cookies and let him watch movies all day, like I did with you guys. WTF kids? How did I miss you growing into such manipulating little people? If you miss your buses tomorrow, I will call you a cab, and I will request the most frightening driver they can think of, and cheerfully send you off to school with the would be axe murderer...so, don't do it. Just, don't do it.

Love,

The Mother who is about to run the floor cleaner on crutches

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Random...because I can't hold a train of thought

While he was home this weekend, I took my husband on my regular Costco shopping trip. We left with about half of what I planned to buy because he got tired and bitchy. I even reminded him not to complain because I usually run that gig solo...he could only force himself to remember my admonishment through dry goods.

I stayed off the crutches most of the day today, because I really didn't have many options, given that it was a school day and I have three little ones at home. I am in significantly more pain than I have been, since the first few hours after the sprain. If someone brings me a bottle of Jack, I will allow them to amputate.

Mothers everywhere, please take heed. If you find a plate in the microwave, and you would just swear it had been there for *hours* and you listen to your children when they tell you that it hasn't been that long at all? They are trying to kill you. You will eventually remember that it was for lunch (around noon) and that it is potentially lethal at 7:00 p.m. 7,000 trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night, on a sprained ankle, will completely rob you of your will to live. Your children knew this of course, but, they heard rumors about your life insurance.

A combination of spoiled food and painkillers create 'bad acid trip' dreams.

If you have a splint on your ankle, your three year old will swear it resembles a saddle. He will jump on it and demand to "giddy-up horsey," he will be fooled into thinking you are granting his wish, when your entire body starts convulsing and jerking in response to the pain.

When your daughter's BFF stops by the house to ask her to be the Vice President of her Justin Bieber Fan Club? Then you will be able to identify *exactly* why you aren't fond of her. Also, you will begin to feel secretly glad when your oldest son declares him to be, "like SO lame."

My Mountain Dew fix is up to 3-4 cans a day, that is exempted from my coffee cup count. Someone please slip some caffeine into an epi-pen and send it my way.

Just call me 'Grace'

As many of my Facebook friends already know, I did a header down our stairs. I started to panic when my ankle reached the size of a cantaloupe, and wouldn't hold any weight. I had it x-rayed, and it looks like it is just a sprain. I still can't put any weight on it, or move it, and it is now hovering around the size of an over-sized softball, the swelling is clear down to my toes though, and it's sporting a lovely shade of bluish-purple.

I would have video of me shampooing carpets today on crutches, but, my son decided I might be serious about beating him with my crutch and so he deleted it. It's a bitch folks. As if I wasn't already behind in my chores, now I am *way* behind, because I move almost half as fast, as the slow people you hate walking behind, in those electric carts at the grocery store. I might be moving a bit faster, if I had just borrowed the walker my grandmother had left from her knee surgery...but, I was like, "none of the cool kids are doing that." I'm such an idiot. The cool kids aren't falling down the stairs either.

My husband is leaving tomorrow morning. I am so royally screwed. Mostly, I want to bury my face in my pillow, clutching a beer, and my bottle of pain pills. In reality, I am holding out, I have a feeling I will be needing those pills worse after Hubby leaves, than I do now, and that is saying something.

I am so (so, so, sooo) far behind in my reader, but, I'll catch up guys. I hope all has been well with you and yours.

Help

If anyone has any knowledge of sprained vs. broken ankles, please give me a shout out. I'm desperate here.

D-O-N-E

No new stove. Burners are fixed. Oven is not.

I caught a frisbee in the face, and my nose is broken.

Will update later if I have a stove to be grateful for???!!!

Think Tank Momma's Gratitude With Attitude Tuesday...come play with me.

Dear Mom,

I love you even though we don't agree (on anything, really) and I know that you love me. I also know that you have nothing but contempt for the way I have chosen to live my life. It isn't necessary to make snide comments every other sentence to reinforce the point. I can assure you that every parent who has more than two children isn't guilty of child neglect, just because they can't devote every second, of every day, to one child and one child alone. I know that my children "didn't get a choice about having more siblings." There is a very good reason for that...it wasn't my children's decision. Nor, is it *any* child's decision to have, or not to have siblings.

My oldest son does not "deserve a vacation." Childhood is a vacation. Even with all those siblings he "didn't ask to be born," he has a very good life. He also has rules to follow, chores to do, and expectations for school work to meet. He also has lots of love, and plenty of fun. I know that you think that you can give him more love and better fun, but, he gets lots and lots of both here at home, really. I am doing my best to grow fantastic kids. They are so awesome, that I suspect I must be doing something right. I know I am not doing it in a way you approve of. Has it ever occurred to you, that my sisters and I took a *whole* lot longer to pull our shit together than we should have? Maybe, just maybe...instead of raising children destined to make huge mistakes that they will learn the hard way from...I am raising self sufficient children who know what responsibility is, and who have good decision making skills? Perhaps, because I make them take responsibility and make decisions for themselves?

Thank you for caring enough to have such strong opinions. I will respect you for having so much love for your grandchildren that you care enough to share your feelings with me. Now, please respect mine. Stop putting me down in little ways, to serve as constant reminders of issues we have 'let drop' because it isn't necessary, it is only hurtful.

Love,

Your daughter

***************

Dear Laundry,

You suck. I hate the way you take over my life and my floors. Thanks so much for the way you suck the time from my day. I hate that, as Kim noticed, you seem to multiply at such a rapid rate, surely, it must be of your own volition.

I hate that you are in cahoots with my children, always playing hide and seek with me. I hate how heavy you are, it kills me to carry you up and down the stairs all the time. I suppose I should give credit where credit is due, and thank you for keeping me from turning into the slothful creature I would happily become without you.

Laundry, you're an evil bitch and I hate you!

Sincerely,

The woman who owns 15 laundry baskets.

Stoked

My day started under miserable, crushing, choking pressure. It is ending on a massive high note. My truck, which was not starting, has been fixed. Yay!!! I was informed that the only thing holding my belt on, must have been some powerful, "don't leave me stranded with six kids," vibes because the tensioner pulley (???) was non existent. The idle motor thingee was actually the reason my truck wouldn't start though. There was also a nail in my left front tire. Now, with the exception of needing a brake light replaced, it is good to go. What a huge relief.

I also sent my brother-in-law an email today. I tried the 'honey' instead of 'vinegar' method that my mother always preaches, but, never employs. He was here within a half an hour, and he has promised me a new stove tomorrow.

Hercules and The Little Lady woke up without fevers this morning. Only the Baby Girl still has a temperature. Jelly Bean did come home from my aunt's house complaining about feeling dizzy and tired. She wasn't hot tonight, I guess we'll see what tomorrow will bring with those two.

Today was the kind of day that, even though it poured down rain outside, the shone shone for me. Thank goodness, and an even bigger thanks to my family.

***************

I have been walking the Baby Girl for the past hour, during that time, a few things came to my attention. I think I am a marginally well trained mama. When I am walking her, she slaps my chest open handed when she wants me to bounce her as we pace. When I have been holding her in one position too long and she wants me to shift my hands, she kicks my ribs. When she thinks I have missed the point about her being hungry, she sucks on my neck, and then clamps down with her two pearly whites. On the flip side, when I want her to close her eyes? She laughs. I can't win with any of them, I guess.