Negotiations...With a Three Year Old.

This story is several weeks old, but one that MUST be documented.  Just so I can recall all the ways her children will repay her when she's a Mommy.  ...because I fully believe in that kind of karma!

I made cupcakes.  Truly beautiful, fluffy, chocolate cupcakes.  They were delightful.  My kids love cupcakes...even crappy cupcakes, they love them...but these cupcakes were about as good as they come.  Tucker and Addie spend a good portion of the afternoon asking about cupcakes, knowing they had to wait until after dinner.

Dinner time.  Tucker eats everything.  EVERYTHING.  (some days I'm pretty sure he'll wake up as tall as Daddy)  Addie...well, she decides to play her cards.  She eats a few, select items off her plate.  Asks for the coveted cupcake.  No dice.  Few more bites.  Cupcake request.  Denied.  Meltdown.  The kind that leaves your kid snotty, screaming, arms swinging violently, certified full fledged meltdown.  I must have saved all the patients I had for that day for this very moment.  God knew it was coming so he helped me with a "patients reserve", and man did I need it.  With all of this unexplained patients, I was able to simply watch her lose her ever lovin' mind for the next 45 minutes.  Screaming "cupcake", crying (most of it fake crying, but still annoying nonetheless) and displaying a general hatred towards me and my cupcake withholding behavior.  Stay strong Momma.

FORTY FIVE MINUTES PASS...

Have I gone deaf?  I look around expecting to never hear the delightful sound of my childrens' screaming again...

I walk into Addie's room to find her exhausted, snotty, wild haired, and red in the face, laying in her bed.  I sit down.
Mommy: "Are you ready to use words?"  
Addie: "yes."
M: "Do you know why you didn't get a cupcake after dinner?"
A: "No."
COME ON....REALLY???  RIDICULOUS.  ....but remember, I have a patients reserve that will blow your mind...continue with my insane conversation with a gentle loving tone...
M: "You didn't eat all your dinner.  The deal was, eat all your dinner, get a cupcake.  Tucker ate all his dinner and he got a cupcake.  Did you eat all your dinner?"
A: "NO"....crying starts again...
M:  "Settle down.  Listen, I'll save your cupcake for you.  If you can eat all your dinner tomorrow, you can have your cupcake.  Is that a deal?"
A:  "I'll try.  But can you make a better dinner tomorrow?"  ...she was dead serious....
M:  "I'll try."  ...I can't get out of the room fast enough, I start laughing hysterically...and so does she.  So much for stellar parenting.  I just blew my cover, she's hilarious.   

Gut Check

Ever have one of those Mommy moments?  You know the one.  You question why you have children.  How did my life turn into navigating Lego IEDs on the floor?  Or opening a Barbie Salon because that hair is too tangled to even put in a ponytail.  Cleaning the same room EVERY NIGHT...knowing that it will blow up again as soon as school is out and it will be same routine as the night before, and the night before that.  Having a real fear that my ears will bleed from hearing "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy" for hours on end.  Cleaning, cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning kids, cleaning.  That's a pretty accurate description of my daily routine.

And then there's the other kind of Mommy moment.  You know the one.  The one where you can't ever imagine your life without these adorable, loving children in your life.  When you see your kids hug each other, and you know they are sharing real love in that moment.  Listening to them giggle with delight as you push them on the swings.  The unsolicited hugs, kisses and snuggles that sneak up on you during the day.  The fact that they are still willing to hold your hand as you walk them to school...you know that crap isn't lasting forever!

I had a Mommy moment just last week, but one of a different kind.  I had an opportunity for a job that would have challenged me and given me a chance to get back into the working world.  I wasn't fully qualified, but hey, why not try.  Everyone I talked to supported my decision to apply and someone even flat out said that I'd be stupid if I didn't apply.  I even asked my kids what I should do because taking this job would effect their lives too.

So I thought about it for a week and decided to apply.  My husband said "Type your resume and cover letter, print it out, set it on the counter for me and I'll look it over when I get home."  I wanted his input, I needed his approval...just for my own peace of mind.  I wanted to know that he really supported me going back to a job.  I sat at our computer and began typing a resume.  I got half way through it.  I started to question myself.  I cried.

That night, instead of a resume and cover letter, I wrote my husband a letter.  I told him that I love taking care of our family and that I'd do that over anything, any day.  I do not want our kids in daycare just so that I can go babysit some grown ups at my new job.  I told him that my crying was probably irrational, but that it was speaking to me.  I don't cry like that and when I do, it means something.  My tears were saying, "Stay home.  You won't ever get these days back."  Print the letter, place it on the counter where my resume was expected.

The next morning....nothing.  The only thing I noticed was my letter was near the computer.  No note.  No response.  No love.  I left the house that morning to take my kids to school with some disappointment and sadness.  I had failed him.  My wishy-washy attitude towards taking this job had pissed him off.  He's very straight forward, no BS, say what you want, get the job done, kind of guy and I was crying and going back and forth on my decision.

I dropped my daughter off at preschool, got in the car, and checked my sidekick (iPhone) for my email.

Email titled: Your Letter.

Tami,

  I just got home and read the letter you left for me.  I'm extremely happy that you've come to a definitive answer regarding the director job.  I know how you feel torn between making money and being with us.  I feel torn, too.  I go through days where I don't want to take another call, but you and the kids are counting on me.  But no matter what, I will always keep fighting to keep us together; even if that means enduring the turmoil of this job.  Every time I start to feel the pressures of life, I stop and picture you, Tucker, and Addie.  That simple image in my head reminds me that I'm the luckiest, most blessed, man on Earth! 

I don't want you to think that you're letting me down.  The most important thing to me is this family.  And at the core of this family is you.  You're the one that holds us all together.  I certainly could not be half the person I am, and we would not have the wonderful children we do, without you.  I want you to be happy.  I want you to feel like you can chase your own dreams.  I am, and will always be, here for you.  You are amazing at so many things, and I'm fully confident that whenever, and if ever, you choose to pursue some sort of career, whatever it may be, you will be amazing at that, too!

All my love and support,

Matt

Sobbing...uncontrollably...but for a different reason.  Because I had a Mommy Moment.  One where you feel appreciated, loved, understood and supported.  The one where you know you have the best kids and you know without doubt that being home with them is a blessing.  Above all those things, I know for absolute certain that I have married the perfect man for me.  Nearly eleven years later after we said our vows and I love him more now than ever before.  We are no where NEAR perfect, but we are perfect for each other.  Tucker, Addie & Associates lives on.  What a blessing.