My kids' favorite game is to climb up on the side table and belly flop onto the sofa. Once again, hand me the mother of the year award for allowing them to do this every single day. Sigh. I promise they haven't gotten hurt doing it.
Anybody need a new manicurist? I know of a 2-year-old who would LOVE to paint your nails for free. Although she, and her mother for that matter, accepts tips in the form of chocolate. Call us.
(And just for the record I haven't pulled out the nail polish remover for anything but to clean up the floor afterwards. That paint job is staying. Lily's so proud of it.)
So often I say "Hand me the mother of the year award" sarcastically, just as I did in this post. And it's true. I'm so so so so so far from being the perfect mom. I get easilly frustrated when they dump their cereal on the floor, sometimes I let them get away with things they know are wrong, and don't even ask me what my house looks like most of the time, although anyone with an eyeball can see in my pictures that it's not tidy. And although I often apologize for the mess, it's safe to say that it's how my house actually looks 90% of the time.
But looking back on my childhood I don't ever remember scrutinizing my parents or their house. All of my favorite memories came from being together as a family and all those random moments of fun like when I stole a "squeeze here" sticker off of a toy and stuck it on my sister Lizzie's butt. Or when my mom told me that, yes, I COULD eat ice cream for breakfast. Or going TPing with my friends and my mom (yes, that's right, my MOM). Or when my dad would take us swimming almost everyday during the summer. And family vacations when I cried as we bicycled down the road at Hilton Head because alligators were everywhere and I was sure that was how I was going to die. Or flying to Utah for my spring breaks during high school and living in my sister, Becca's, apartments.
So, no, my house isn't perfect. No I'm not a perfect mom. But I hope my kids will be able to create their own fun memories with me and Ben, and each other. So when my kids bellyflop onto the sofa, I'll just remind myself that maybe this is something they'll smile back on, and remember that it's all the little gold nuggets that make life good.







