Wordless Wednesday: I don't have the heart to tell her she's not on the team

First Day of School

Happy Constitution Day!

Fish Update

Sadly, Mickey and Donald Jr. have died.

So have Sunny and Henry, Jones, Jr. 

So I just spend another $8 on more fish...

Boyo got dalmation mollies that he promptly named Zebra and Tiger.

Girlie got sunburst platys that she named Sunburst and Burstie.

And KK got black mollies that she named Goldie and MoonStar. 

And she told them that if they died, it's okay because she can just buy more. 

Camping

We recently took the kids camping for the first time.

We practiced in the backyard.

We loaded the car and I thought I was ready. 

And still, nothing prepared me for how cold it would be.  Or how filthy.  Or how fun. 

Not something you see everyday.

Bug hunting

Middle of nowhere and the kids are still plugged in.

Uncle Kyle tried to teach him how to start a fire with his toy magnifying glass.

Swimming in the lake = bath

Chopping firewood.  With trowels. 

Wordless Wednesday: My little Roman Soldiern

Better Mom

Last week, the day before school started, I took the kids to Disneyland for one last summer fling. 

It was a lot of fun until it wasn't. 

They were tired.  They were worried about starting school.  They were hot.  They wanted to play Wii.  They were hungry.  They were thirsty.  They wanted to go home.

So as I was walking/dragging my kids down Main Street, two of them broke down and threw temper tantrums that had to be seen to be believed. 

And that was when it happened...

A woman (perfectly made up, coordinating outfit) was pushing her two year old (in an adorable Minnie Mouse outfit, sitting in a perfectly pink stroller) past me.  She looked at me and said, loud enough for me to hear, "If you were a better mom, your children would listen to you."

What. The. F%$#.

There were so many things I wanted to do.  I want to tackle her and pound her perfectly made up blonde head into the ground.  I want to call her a judgmental bitch and tell her to go to hell.  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs because I am exhausted, over worked, under appreciated, but, dammit, I am the best mom I can be.

Instead, I did something that I didn't think I could do. 

I broke. 

I stood on Main Street of Disneyland and sobbed.  I cried tears of anger, of exhaustion, and embarrassment.  I couldn't find any words.  I couldn't find a reaction.  I was so beaten down that at that moment in time all I could do was sob.

And my son - my sweet, shy boy whom I was afraid was going to fail his Kindergarten assessment because he doesn't like to talk to strangers -- looked at this troll and said, "You're mean.  And rude."  

A better mom probably would have scolded him for talking to an adult like that. 

I gave him a watery grin, a big hug, and bought all my kids lollipops. 

I couldn't help but think about it all day long.  I alternated between crying and being so furious I wanted to scream.  And, of course, I played the "If only I had" game...

If only I had asked her "what is a better mom?"  Because, truly, what the hell is a better mom?  I realized at 3 in the morning that I don't know what a better mom is because each and every day I do the best I can for my kids... and I don't know how to make my best "better."

If only I had coldly said, "Do not speak to me or my children in that manner."

If only I hadn't cried.  

If only I had taken a deep breath and said, "You know, ma'am, that comment was hurtful and judgmental.  And you seem like you have this parenting thing under control TODAY.  But there is going to come a day where you don't.  Where you are exhausted and overwhelmed and angry with the world and wondering what the hell you are doing.  Where you question every decision you make as a mother.  Where you wonder why you thought you could be a mother.  And when that day comes, I hope to God that someone lifts you up instead of tears you down.  You just tried to tear me down.  And you should be ashamed of yourself because moms should stick together."

But I didn't do any of those things. 

I could only cry my frustrations away and resolve that the next time I see a mother struggling, I would lift her up.