Maybe You Don't See What I See

So often you hear, "we don't see eye to eye" and it's a sad statement really. It's especially sad when it's said by or about someone you love, someone you really want to feel and share in what you see. I've given it some thought and what it comes down to is perspective.  Where are you standing when you look at the picture.  We can both be looking at the same picture but our perception is based on where we stand.  Recently I have been telling people about my trip to Nebraska and the one consistent response is... "What a boring drive!" I felt a little hurt by this because I happen to like the drive. So I thought I would start asking what about the drive was so boring and the answers were ridiculous; it's brown, there's nothing to look at, (and my favorite) it's flat.  To me it's none of those things, it's heartland and farms, it's crops and cows and renewable energy.  It's my road home or the road to my husband's home.  It's all of the things other people said and it's all of the things I have said.
Same picture, different perspective.
How do you change where someone stands and bring them to stand by you?? Why would you want to?? When do you give up??
My sweet baby girl has been given an opportunity to go to a new school. With a bit of effort on her part she can almost guarantee entry to any college. So many wonderful positive opportunities and all she sees is sadness and hurt. Why? Her friends, her here and now. No Longview. She is standing to close to the picture. Please baby come stand by mama and see what I see.  Mama please come stand by me and see what I see. Do I force her to see? Quit trying? No way to meet in the middle? You can't paint perspective because no one will see the same picture as you. We can never stand in the exact same place.

Giving your heart away hurts

It's never been a secret, but my heart started beating the day I found out I was pregnant. My kids and I have been together through thick and thin. Together we work as a tripod, the more we lean on each other the stronger we are.
  Today that strength was put to the test as we backed out of my Aunts driveway and the two of them were staying behind.  They will stay for 8 days.
   And I cried, and cried and cried and cried and then fell asleep and then woke up and cried some more. Two plus hours. Then a little less.
   I'm not ready for then to begin a life away from me.  Yes it's only eight days but it is a step toward the inevitable. They will open their wings and they will not only fly but they will soar. I will be there for every wing flap, cheering them on while inside my heart will break just bit. It's a good thing God blessed with a man to cheer me on and help me to see I to can fly.

Chemicals and sugar.

I am finally coming around to GMO's, hormones and the like. Trying to get my family to come around is another story. Most days I'm just happy to get one meal in without inadvertently poisoning my children.
  Along with this we mom's are now met with having be concerned of other children and their allergies AKA the no nut universal ban.  I'm not creative at seven am. I can barely see let alone have the where with all to hash out a nut free lunch. Hooray for summer camp! They actually allow peanut butter! Finally I can slap together a PBJ and call it good. Now back to my healthy living plight and enter "natural peanut butter". Happily singing the hip and with it song about this amazing food substance I hear the most dreaded question a mom can hear... "What's for lunch?" This can be substituted for any of the meals really and yield that same dreaded feeling.
  Not today because it's "Peanut butter jelly time"! To that I hear a new complaint... "uh is it that new stuff you bought???" Here's me, "yeah it's the good stuff!" It tastes weird, like too many peanuts. Grumble grumble snarl. And now here is my opportunity to show how much I care. To show exactly what a health conscience mom I am. That yes I am doing a small part in the GMO war. "Well it's the natural kind, it doesn't have chemicals and sugar". The response hurts my heart to repeat... "I like chemicals and sugar, it tastes better".
With that a guaranty my healthy lunch was up on the barter block by noon. I'm glad I kept someone else's kid off the processed sauce as it were.
ITS PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME

When the good is more and the bad is less, you have progress.

  Not all adventures in motherhood are fun, funny nor enjoyable. There is heartache and pain along the way. This is a good thing.
  When your children grow two sizes in one summer their little bodies hurt. Oh sure it's exciting once they are done but it's not easy getting there. Not to mention, but I will, the financial pain it causes me. Three pairs of shoes for one kid in one summer hurts.
  Along the growth journey mamas grow too. No not in height though two more inches for me would be well worth the growing pains. Ok sometimes we grow physically when we put on some "mom weight". And that growth is lame!
  No good mom growth is emotional growth because it also adds strength to our mom arsenal.
  Mine has been the lesson in forgiveness and breaking painful cycles. (You can read all about that in the "woe is me blog") So many amazing moms have been hurt and kicked when they were down... they got up. I know I did and I faltered and went down again. Today is Mother's Day and dammit I am standing. I'm standing all five feet with my shoulders back and head up.
  Tomorrow? Well tomorrow who knows, it's a mystery.
  Happy Mother's Day to all the moms standing today, and the ones that aren't you will be standing again.

My heart melted in acid then turn to poop

  My sweet cherub faced baby boy has a girlfriend. We sometimes tease my son that he is Norman Bates.  The fact is he's a mama's boy and I love it. I know that God gave mothers sons as a special gift and you're not going to convince me otherwise. Here's an example of why I believe that; yesterday while driving to school the kids and I were discussing who they look like, me or their dad. I told them they look like the best of both of us and at the same time like neither of us. My daughter then says mom I've been told I look like you did when you were my age . I said yes I think that's probably true (insert Normans comment here) "does that mean she's going to get to look like you when she's your age?" "No son she's going to be much prettier." Norman, "there's no way possible mama you're too pretty that would be too hard for her to do". Now to an old, short, fat woman this was the greatest compliment. Even at 10 he still climbs into my lap puts is hot fat little jam hands on my face and tells me how much he loves me.
  Enter the happy home wrecker.
Who does this underage hussy think she is coming in here trying to look into the soul of my son? She didn't kiss his wounds, she didn't change his diapers, she didn't get to read him Goodnight Moon to him every night, therefore she doesn't get to have hot little jam hands on her face hearing about how he loves her. Okay okay maybe a little bit disproportionate they are only 10 but the pain of hearing the story still stung just a little.
  She won't be stealing him away from me anytime soon I do understand that. This is a  glimpse into the not so distant future. Over the next several years we will have the battle between childhood and adulthood and finding their way in the world. Along the way a mama's heart will break just a little bit each day with the eventual knowledge that they will move on, they will move out, and they will grow up . With a little luck, lots of love and patience knowing they grew up correct I  have hope they will come home.

Turns out I'm not bald

  I'm cheap and I hate spending money on beauty expenditures. I wait to wax my eyebrows until my lady comes looking for me. My hair is three different colors and several different lengths. I try really I do. I cut my own bangs and split ends. I dye my own hair and when I haven't chewed them down I paint my own nails.
  I know many other mom's are just like me. We do this because we would rather our kids have the best of everything. In saying this I am frantically praying that this is not a balls spot. Nay a bald crater. I thought it would be a time saver if I bleached my hair while getting the weeks meals prepared.  Separate ten pounds of meat, add a foil. Assemble lunches, add a foil. So on and so on. Rush rush rush. I have to to get Ben's game.
  So hair is rinsed so I can add color when I get home. DAFAQ?!?! How long was that in? My hair fell out in one spot and I don't have time to deal with it. Put a
  Cheer cheer cheer go team. Hurry home and throw the color in. In my mind I decided that if the scalp was at least a color it would be better then plain bald.
  Turns out I'm not bald, just not a hair dresser.
The moral is this... TAKE TIME FOR YOURSELF AND SPEND SOME MONEY ON YOU. Kids are amazing but they are only as amazing as their mom.