As parents, it’s easy to see where our children need love. They need love when they’ve had a bad day at school. They need love when they missed the ball at practice. They need love when their brother tore the head off their favorite baby doll. And they need love when the dog won’t play with them after they spilled their noodles on the floor and when they lied about finishing their homework. The job of a parent might include the roles of chef, chauffeur, nurse, counselor, teacher, preacher, laundry-doer, and referee; but no matter which role you’re taking on, being a parent always involves dishing out love.
As moms and dads, we’re consumed with the needs of our children. We want to build their self-esteem and their character. We want to foster creativity and inspire faith. We try to teach them to play fair and share. We spend every waking moment creating this list of things to do just make sure we’re hitting the mark. But there is one thing we sometimes forget, and it’s really simple. We’re people too!
Just because we’re parents doesn’t mean we don’t have our own inexplicable bouts of grumpiness. Being moms doesn’t make us exempt from overwhelming loneliness or feelings of failure. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to stop ourselves in the middle of our own destructive patterns and just let love in.
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As usual life in the zoo keeps on moving at chaotic speeds. So many times something funny happens and I say “I should write a whole blog about that,” but before I can even log in I’m up and patching skinned knees again.
For example, last night in the kitchen I said something to my daughter and she said “You sounded very Marilyn Monroe-ish” so I broke into my imitation of Marilyn singing “Happy Birthday Mr. President” with all the appropriate breathy phrasing and my daughter looked at me and said; “that was a long time ago, wasn’t it? Who’d she sing that for? Bill Clinton??” Yes, Blondie, Bill Clinton is old, but he’s not THAT old (smh)!
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Yesterday the little kids found the Halloween box in the closet and within seconds I was surrounded by Captain American, Iron Man, a Princess, and a lovely Bengal tiger who were all running from the bloody masked Scream man. Of course my oldest boy was quick to point out that it wasn’t Halloween.
Since when is dressing up confined to October 31st? I guess Dylan forgets about the times when he and Blondie were little and we used to be super silly. Once I let Blondie put my hair in crazy pigtails and then she decorated them with little leprechauns we made on St. Patrick’s Day.
Another summer day, out of the blue, I painted all the kids in our neighborhood up like clowns. There was no reason for it, just seemed like a good way to pass the day. I felt bad that there were so many kids who seemed to be unattended, so I tended to them all. Our house was like a big play house. I was always making all the little girls outfits to wear and things for playing dress up. I even made Blondie and her cousin little wedding dresses to prance around the house in.
Then there was the little pink piggy. Oh how I loved the little pink piggy! When Blondie was four years old, she had to be a Teletubby for Halloween, and not just any Teletubby, she had to be Po (the reddish colored one). Of course Teletubbies were a brand new gimmick and everybody had to buy it up, and she waited until two days before Halloween to tell me this was her must-have costume, and being that I had never failed to come through, I thought to myself “how hard could it be?” Read the rest of this entry