Just Another Day in the Life...

Let me just say... for all the mamas out there... this is for you.  For all the soon-to-be mamas out there... this is for you too.  If you are already a mama, you will laugh, shake your head at your own embarrassments and completely relate.  If you are a soon-to-be mama... don't let this scare you for all of us mamas wouldn't want it any other way.  But consider yourself warned.  {Now, you are in the know.}

And let this be my pre-face for this poem needs a pre-face... and a disclaimer and probably a prologue but I'm too lazy.  So in my pre-face I should tell you that I believe one key to happiness is laughter.  And I am very happy in my life and I am laughing... a lot.  Laughing at myself, at my kiddos and at the craziness that can surround some days and moments in our lives as full-time mamas.  This poem in no-way-shape-or-form means that I am not grateful or that I don't love my life... because I am and I do.  This is just my way at laughing at all that occurs in a day (and laughing at the fact that it actually all does occur in one day) and me poking fun at my harder moments as a mom and giving myself some grace in the meantime.

{And... I would like to add that this is not the case for all mamas... some have easy babies and some have their @%#* together... neither of which is me.}

Just another day in the life...

What day is it?  I don't know.  Alarm says beep and I go back to sleep.
Wake up, sand in my eyes, messy hair-- I don't care

What to wear?  Whatever fits.  Not my jeans by all means.
Yoga pants, leggings, t-shirt, shoes that don't hurt.

Alarm goes off, monitors beeping, kids awake, beds to make.
Diaper changes, teeth brushed, clothes to put on, mama's yawn.

Up the stairs, down the stairs, up and down and back around.
Breakfast ready, come and get it, booster seat, make them eat.

It's just another day in the life...

Vitamins and medicine, each food group, and I smell poop.
Round two of diaper changes, the kitchen's dirty, it's only 8:30.

Take out the trash, clean the bottles, scrape the grime, tummy time.
Hot Dog dance, building towers, playing cars, off to Mars.

Silly faces, baby talk, throw in the wash, oh my gosh.
Bouncing baby, again and again, picking up toys, lots of noise.

Shhh... inside voices, daddy's working, "How 'bout a snack?" My aching back.
Snack gets spilled, "No worries." Brush off the dirt... for a little won't hurt.

It's just another day in the life...

Get kids in the car, one at a time, pack diaper bag, wave the white flag.
Grocery shopping, no room in the cart, kiddos resist, to heck with the list.

Lunchtime eating, crackers and cheese-- a quick bite for me... is a victory.
Playtime before nap and more diaper changing, a resisting child-- mad, hyper and wild.

Time.  Out.  "Say you're sorry." Someone's cranky... milk and a blankie.
Kids are fussing. Talking, singing. Will they sleep?  Then not a peep.

Naptime, finally... you've come at last. Time for chores. Down on all fours.
Cleaning, straightening, putting away. Starting the to-do's... wishing for a snooze.

It's just another day in the life...

Baby's crying, kids awake. Naptime is through... peace and quiet is too.
Grouchy faces, whimpers and cries, snuggles are in order, being a mama hoarder.

Changing diapers, then more snacks. Rattles, play mats and cowboy hats.
Finish the laundry, fold the clothes.  Choo Choo trains and paper airplanes.

Nakey time, start the bath.  Pee on the floor and the clothes you wore.
Splashing, splashing, tub overflow.  Sit your derriere on the potty chair.

Jammies, lotion. Wiggles and giggles.  Time for dinner, we've got a beginner.
Food on the floor.  Food in the hair.  Food on the wall.  A bedtime stall.

It's just another day in the life...

Even more playtime, daddy's here.  Hide and seek.  Tiptoe and sneak.
Piggy backs and dinosaur roars. Shooting free throws, hang up clothes.

Sleepy baby, tiny yawns. Snuggle, dip, bounce and skip.
Kiss and love and say goodnight.  Put baby down without a sound.

Time for reading lots of books. "Just one more." And the big 'ignore.'
Five books later and ready for bed.  Prayers and love and all of the above.

Tiptoe quietly out of the room.  Down goes the sun.  Another day done.
Wake up tomorrow on a brand new day. I get to repeat, a life ever so sweet.

It's just another day in the life...

Reflection

When I look in the mirror, I see me and when I see me... I see a big nose. A huge nose that's much too big for my delicate face, with a bump on top and a profile that's wanting something different.

But, I wouldn't trade it for all the clouds in the sky because it's my familes' nose. It belongs to those that came before me and reminds me of my lineage and where I come from.

I think I'll keep my nose.

When I look in the mirror, I see me and when I see me... I see lots of freckles. Freckles covering my body head to toe. Contrasting dark brown with my light skin like a connect-the-dot game.

But, I wouldn't trade them for all the fish on the sea because they're a stamp from my childhood. A wonderful childhood spent outside in the lake, sun-kissed and barefoot. It reminds me how lucky I was to grow up wild and free.

I think I'll keep my freckles.

When I look in the mirror, I see me and when I see me... I see a birthmark as big as I've ever seen. Red as a cherry and right on my side. The doctor told my mama it was a bruise from delivery and it would go away. 33 years and still waiting...

But, I wouldn't trade it for all the flowers in the field because for some reason it never wanted to leave so how could I ask it to go? It makes me different.  It makes me unique. A kiss from the angels before they sent me on my way.

I think I will keep my birthmark.

When I look in the mirror, I see me and when I see me... I see a scar right across my tummy. 5 inches in length. My whole life... not there... and then one day it was.

But then so were you. It was my way of making sure you arrived safely. It was my last gift to you when I was your home. My goodbye. My welcome. My I-would-do-anything-for-you.  My I-can't-live-without-you. My constant reminder you're here, you're my daughter, you're perfect.

I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

I think I'll keep my scar.

For this is who I am. These things make me more beautiful because I have a story to tell. And it's mine, only mine.

The Word "Little"

I recently read an article from a gentleman with dwarfism.  He happens to be a professor at a college and smart as a whip.  His article focused on his perspective of dwarfism... what it felt like to be a dwarf, how he fought his whole life to prove his worth and how he hated the word little.

Hmmmmmm... the word little.

Words are words.  They mean something, describe something, help us understand our world.  Whether we like it or not, we are all associated with words.  Sometimes we are lucky and can choose certain words that are ours.  Other times, words are chosen for us... but their still ours.  Sometimes these words makes us happy and other times, so sad.  Different people see us differently and can have their own set of words to use to describe us.  Words hurt, words help, words love.

 My words go like this: creative, loving, brunette, determined, spirited, stubborn, smart, thoughtful, cheapskate, freckled, dreamer and last be not least... lanky.  That's right.  I can tend to look a little like Gumby and... I am aware of the resemblance.

Some of those go hand-in-hand with my personality.  Some of them I work hard for.  Some of them I have always been.  But these are my words.  And even though some of them I would like to shake right off, I can't.  It's who I am.

And with my Lilah... one of her many words will always be little.

And while I understand the professor's point-of-view and I can appreciate his story... I look at the word little so differently.

Disclaimer: {And I should mention before I go any further, that I am not a little person, nor can I fully understand what it is like to be a little person.  So with that said, maybe I am way off-base but I am still going to write it because I think it.}

Little.  I understand the professor felt like he had to prove himself his whole life to make up for his short-stature.  I understand that he felt like he had to press upon people his integrity.  I really do.  But... and there is a big but... (and I am laughing that I just wrote that... but it is what I mean... and now let's be serious)...

Can't we just embrace the little?

And even though I am trying to be serious and I have a serious point to make, my glass of wine is making me write this next line... in the words of Lady Gaga, "Baby, I was born this way."  And what a way to be.  (Maybe my disclaimer should have been about the glass of wine seeing how it has been void from my life for a year.  Thanks to pregnancy.  Thanks to baby.  Happy to have a glass of wine every now and again.)

I love that Lilah gets this word little.  It is soooo her.  Her little squishy nose, her little chubby legs, her little shy smile when I get her from nap.  Her little giggle at daddy, her little belly button, her little toes that curl around my finger.  All of these things make me smile so big.  And selfishly, I am glad that my girl gets to stay little a little longer just so I can savor these memories of her forever more.  I love my little.  I love everything about my babygirl.

And for the record... little is just one of her many, many words.  We don't have just one, you know.  She is going to reveal her secrets of who she is and fill in the blanks of what her words will be... but not yet.  You see... she likes to keep me guessing.  She just shows glimmers of her personality and leaves me hungry for more and more.  But, each day she delivers and I get to see a little more into her world-- the world of who she will become.  It is a world I am desperate to learn about... but I know in time I will.

And to tell you the truth, it wouldn't surprise me if some of her words sounded like this: big {personality}, giant {zest for life}, huge {heart}.  Big and little... they go together like fish and the sea.

And as for when she gets older?  She may have to prove herself and be her own advocate.  She may have to stand up for what she believes is right or wrong.  And as her mama, I hope all of these things for her for they will make her fierce.  But for now, I am enjoying my little one and wishing each day she stays little in my arms and I pray that she always looks at me with those deep blue eyes and smiles and gushes and squeals at her mama.

And that word little... well, it is my new favorite word.  And it will always be.