Happy Mama's Day to me!

My one day out of the year finally arrived and I had only one wish: not to have to wipe anyone's crap trap except my own. No diaper duty, no toilet duty. Just for one day out of the 365. So I tell Babby Daddy this is my only wish. Besides saying "shit I forgot tomorrow was Mother's Day" he said "No way" to my only Mother's Day wish.

Fine. After 4 years of being a mama, I have learned to have rock bottom low expectations when it comes to Mother's Day. I think kids should appreciate their mother everyday, but come on...who ever really appreciates their mothers the way she should be appreciated...very few I am sure! We are all too busy being mothers!

So this Mother's Day I took matters into my own hands! I grabbed my purse and told Baby Daddy to watch the kids on Mother's Day Eve. I got on my bike and drove straight to the liquor store. Mama was gonna get a Hangover for Mother's Day!

When you are handed lemons, make lemon drops! I never, ever drink alcohol for the simple fact that I am so hungover the next day. I swear I can just take a whiff of whiskey and want to lie in bed all day (I said "want"...the snot noses would never allow it!) But I decided I was gonna celebrate my motherhood! Mama bought herself some Guinness Stout in a bottle!

As soon as I returned home, I popped one open! Yummm chocolate beer. I sat all by myself, for two seconds before I was covered in kids. I was just about to pop open another when I stood up. Mama was tipsy! From one beer. Cheap date!

So I decided I would wait to have one more after I put the kids to bed. It was one hour later before the last snot nose was down and I was too tired to continue celebrating surviving another year of motherhood. No worries, I still have 3 Guinness left...maybe next Mother's Day!

PS...It was my best Mother's Day yet!

It's Mine!

Once upon a time, there was this mama who was shopping with her two perfectly misbehaving kids in the supermarket when she passed by the candy aisle. And what a coincidence, just at that moment PMS struck this poor mother making her do the unthinkable: buy a nice king size chocolate bar all for HERSELF.

She knew the only way to accomplish this mission was to distract the little snot noses, so she quickly sent them on a milk run, giving her just enough time to slip the bar into the basket undetected. Phase One of her Mission accomplished! The chocolate was hidden away in the shopping basket and the two little snot noses were none the wiser. Now for Phase Two: paying for the chocolate and somehow getting it from the basket to shopping bag without discovery.

Bells went off in this most desperate mama's head with the perfect plan...she gave the kids money to ride the toy train at the front of the shop where she could still keep an eye on them while checking out. Off they went and the chocolate was paid for and safely placed in the bottom of the shopping bag. "All mine," she thought!

By the time this PMS crazed mother reached home, her mouth was almost dripping just thinking about that first bite of her own little piece of heaven. She imagined how the chocolate would melt on her finger tips just before she could get it into her mouth. She would chew slowly each little square savoring the pure ecstasy of her treat. Ahhhhh a mother's ultimate orgasm.

So inside she rushed and by the time the groceries were unloaded (except that one bag) and the kids all settled, she had to come up with another diversion so she could slip away undetected!

Desperate times called for desperate measures so she quickly put on Dora the Explorer on the laptop. Her good friend Dora would keep their attention for at least 10 minutes, and that was all she needed.

She all but crawled away and hid in the last place the kids would ever look for her...the shower! She quietly slipped the bar out of the grocery bag under her shirt and tip-toed to the solitude of the shower room.

She passionately ripped off the paper exposing the smooth darkness of her very own special dark. She took one last look at the perfectly chiseled squares, each bulging with the sweet cocoa aroma. "My precious", she said and she couldn't take it any longer. They had to become one. Her hands quivered. Just before the drool began to cascade down her chin, she sank her teeth into her creamy piece of escape.

The rich, bitter-sweetness filled every corner of her mouth and her taste buds screamed out in pure bliss. Just at that moment the door flung open. Busted. The two little weasels probably smelled the chocolate the second the wrapper came off. And she knew they wouldnt leave without at least one piece of her Precious. Sure enough, the begging began and she was defeated. Each grubby hand was rewarded with a chunk and they scurried off leaving the poor mother broken in her defeat.

She stepped out of the shower back into reality and held on tight to what was left of her guilty pleasure. And at that moment she smiled and realized it was one of the many truths of being a mother: sometimes a quickie is better than nothing!

One bad Mama

This is how the daycare walks the babies to the park, its a stroller for 4 kids.

I just realized today that I am one bad mama. No, not "bad" in the cool sense of the word, but bad in the not-so-great sense. I'm not at all the mother I thought I was gonna be when I sat on the couch every nite stroking the growing alien in my belly.

Way back in 2007BC (Before children) I thought I was gonna be one bad ass mama. I was gonna be this really cool chick who just happen to be a mama giving motherhood a new meaning. I was gonna have it all, especially holding on tight to "Me"". I was gonna walk the streets pushin my very expensive buggy and all the other mamas would whisper, "Wow how does she do it? She is the coolest mama in the hood!"

And then I gave birth...

And then instead of wearing clothes, I wear my yoga pants everyday.

Instead of having the perfectly styled hair, my scalp goes days without seeing a brush.

Instead of me strutting down the street proudly pushing my babies in the buggy, I am so insecure sometimes, I just stare ahead.

Instead of everyday being a celebration of life, I often spend the entire day fussing, disciplining and trying not to smile.

Instead of being the coolest, laid-back mama at the playground, I'm constantly worried if my daughter is gonna fall off the slide head first.

Instead of enjoying every precious minute with my babies, I'm prayin for bedtime to come quickly.

Instead of keeping the romance alive with Baby Daddy, I'm watching the back of my eyelids by 10pm every night.

Instead of a glass of wine in my hand at the end of the day, I have a poop diaper in one and a snotty tissue ball in the other.

Instead of being a Bad Ass Mama, I am a real Mama...insecure, tired, disheveled, yelling but HAPPY!

My neighbors were abducted by aliens

Just down from our house on our stroll to the Vondelpark

Well, maybe not by aliens but somehow my next door neighbors disappeared overnight. They vanished into thin air sometime between the last time I saw them on the street (just a few days before the abduction) and the moving truck in front of their apartment.

Ok, to be honest I knew they had sold their apartment to childless yups, (yay the guilt I will now feel when my kids are screaming and beating against their walls). My abducted neighbors just had baby #2 and were short one bedroom and desperately wanted to live in the countryside, where the grass and boredom are plenty. Its not like I knew them very well, matter of fact I never even saw Baby #2 except once and he was so bundled in his buggy I could only see a nose. I did give them a beautiful card when he was born, I hope they got it!

They bought the apartment next to ours just before we bought ours and she had her first baby (in that apartment BTW) just before I had my baby girl (which I opted for the hospital where the drugs were plenty). Baby Daddy maybe went into their apartment once to look at their paint job in the stairway. But that was it. The only time I saw their apartment was on-line on the real estate site. Matter of fact, as soon as I saw the For Sale sign go up in the window, I went on-line to check it out.

So we were neighbors for almost 3 years and not so much as a goodbye. This is what lead me to the conclusion that they were abducted. Surely, they would have said goodbye. Especially since our kids grew up next to another but never once played together. And we never had afternoon tea when our babies, just a a hello wave through the bay window.

Don't get me wrong, they were sweet-as-pie and were always friendly when we saw them either on the street or in the supermarket, but thats where the neighborly love stopped. Strange. I think Baby Daddy and myself are normal likable neighbors (I guess no one told them rednecks are the best neighbors). Maybe it's the culture,  or maybe my kids were too wild. No matter, they were our neighbors for almost 3 years and they just suddenly one day disappeared, all four of them.

I bet if I travel to the green, green land of BoringDam and on the corner of Sigh and Yawn straat, I will find them! But until then, I will stick to my original theory...my neighbors were abducted by aliens...

Two remaining brain cells...reactivate!

Finally after over four years what brain cells I have left, which I think is maybe two, one for each side, have been reactivated! I joined a book club!

Yes, not only am I able to read something beyond Green Eggs and Ham but I am expected to dicuss what I have read which requires some sort of intelligence, right? For the first time in four years my story anaylsis goes beyond where the poop goes after the princess flushes or what letter comes after T.

My savior and friend/colleague approached me one day and said she was thinking about starting a club and asked if I would be interested in participating. At first, I was a bit scared. I was kinda like a prisoner coming out of solitary confinement after four years. Not only would I be required to read thousands of complex sentences with no pictures to explain them but i would be required to use my heavily damaged brain. I somehow mustered up teh courage once she told me there would be three other mamas with small kids. Count me in, I said to her bravely, hopefully they would take pity on me

Two meetings and one novel later, I can tell you its one of the most courageous decisions I have ever made. Both remaining brain cells have been awakened and even though I didn't quite finish the first novel I was involved in an intellectual adult discussion. An analysis! A conversation that didn't have the words poop or pee in it. Emancipation!

Now don't get me wrong, of course we discussed our kids and their issues but it didn't take us long to get down to business. And once we began the discussion, it lead to political discussions including how we could make the world a better place. Who would have thought, that a book club would bring me back from the intellectual dead!

There are some crazies out there...

The Friesland/Drenthe national forest in Holland

Ok, I know I am a crazy mama. I admit it, besides I haven't slept in over four years. That alone will make one crazy, but combined with stress, poor diet and constant exposure to poop fumes can make crazy take on an entirely different meaning.

And once you are a mother, you understand this new meaning of crazy. You learn that it can't be controlled and you constantly struggle to live, function and raise half-decent offspring while dealing with this "craziness." You are your own toughest critic and you are constantly observing other mothers to see if they too, have been infected with the "crazy." I know because I do it every trip to the playground. I scan the playground searching for someone I can relate too.  And most of the time, the "crazy" can be seen in at least half of the mamas...ahhhh...misery loves company!

Now-a-days we don't even have to leave the house to look for the "crazy" mamas out there because we have the internet and all the Mommy groups, forums, clubs, ect. And let me tell you...there are some crazy mamas out there! I'm not being judgmental, I am just stating facts and bless these poor souls because even the most sane person can get the severe "craziness" once those hormones kick in.

At first I followed these groups like a religion, really digesting what some of these potpourri groups of mamas had to say. And of course, valuable, useful information can be found within these groups. But for me, I really enjoy the crazy of the crazy mama posts on these pages or forums. Especially on a day when I think the "craziness" has overcome me and I have really lost it...I just read one of these posts and I feel so much better about myself. I realize that I am really not that crazy! I would never panic if my kids eat too many carbs in a day or that they don't read Seuss by age 4. I guess you could say I gain perspective of my situation and along the way,  some really cheap entertainment that only a mama can appreciate!

And if you are a mama reading this and it sounds like I have described you...don't be offended, because trust me, if you look hard enough, there is a mama out there crazier than you ever thought about being! It's just a job hazard for the most rewarding job in the world!

Rag-a-muffin Mama

It's a fashion show every time I go to pick up my little one from his elementary school. All the Supermodel Mamas line up around the playground waiting for their kids to come running out of school.

I always look at them...then I look at myself in my usual yoga pants and long slimming black jacket accessorized with my hardly-ever-used running shoes. I look like I just stepped out of a gym except I am not sweating, I am fat and I have the same thing on every Monday and Tuesday afternoon.

And I always have good intentions when I dress like this every Monday morning. I think A) I can either put on something nice and ruin it when cleaning the house or B) I could wear clothes that didnt matter if I spill a little bleach on AND I dont have to change later when I go on my weekly run (that I have been planning to do for over a year now). Once I finish up my chores and Baby Daddy gets home, I can just skip out of the door and go for my 3 mile run that NEVER happens.

So by the time I pick up my son from Fashion Show Elementary, I am so high on Clorox fumes and Mop-n-glow, I don't care what I look like. Until...I get the stares from the fashion queens...the shame... the judgement. Then I usually crouch down to talk to my daughter until my son runs out and we run to escape on my bike.

But I really started thinking about these mamas. Where do they find the time to brush their hair, much less put on a ton of makeup and dress in the latest fashion. Not to mention, where do they get the money to buy such fancy clothes? I make a really decent salary and now with two crumb-crunchers I barely have enough money to buy new granny pantys.

I can't figure it out and I have to just give up and be happy that I am the Rag-a-muffin mama, who works part-time and spends the rest of my free time working full time in the house and for my family. This is the real me...a rag-a-muffin mama!