The Making of M.O.M.

I would like to thank you all for coming today. Honestly, I'd say that I'm shocked and in awe that you'd come all this way to award me with such a title, but I'm not surprised.

I mean, it's not every day that you happen upon a woman like me. The things you say about me are, indeed, true. I am so deserving of this title that when the awards committee called me, I laughed a little and then wondered what had taken so long.

Yes, it would be me who had to tell her 2 year old, again, not to lick the toilet. Ever. Even if you think it's chocolate.

It would also be me who allowed her almost 9 month old baby to play with an electrical adapter. It was unplugged. But you know, the principle of the matter is that I would have never let my first born baby play with cords of that nature. But alas, I just looked at her content self and continued texting my BFF.

I have earned this award on so many levels, but the thing that is the clincher for me, I think, is my attention to ~~detail~~ sarcasm. When my pre-teen stormed out of the room in an emotional rage it may or may not have been me who mumbled under my breath, "If you'd have stayed 8 years old like I told you this wouldn't be an issue." I may have also told her she is, in fact, bossy and to stop acting surprised when people assign her that title.

I am also going to confess that I earned this title fully when I went to turn on the sound machine in my 4 year old's room and, upon discovering her used pull up laying on her dresser, pinched it by the edge, carried it across the house and slung it in her general direction. I believe that life is best learned in a state of surprise, so I also felt it necessary to call her name as the urine laden disposable underpants were hurling at her head.

Think fast and stop peeing the bed. It's like my catch phrase. And by catch phrase I mean, seriously, catch!

You also should know that this isn't an award I will take flippantly. Oh no. I will wear this title as a crown upon my head and, in honor of it, I will continue to tell my children who are STARRRRRVVVIIIIINGGGGG and asking every food related question in their vocabulary at 5:45pm as I am frantically finishing up dinner that our meal will consist of "food and food with a side of food." Delicious sounding, isn't it? I know it's important to encourage proper nutrition and because of that when they ask what kind of food, I will reply with a bright, warm smile, "the kind you eat."

Modeling behaviors you wish to see in your children is oh-so-very important and I take this title you have given me so seriously, that I will always endeavor to show my children that YELLING AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS FROM 24 INCHES FROM MY FACE IS ALWAYS A DELIGHT EVEN IF YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT YOU'VE FINISHED ALL YOUR SCHOOL WORK AND CLEANED YOUR ROOM AND NOW YOU'D LIKE TO HELP ME WASH ALL THE DISHES AND FOLD THE CLOTHES.

Hard work ethic and ear buds have helped me push through those training sessions.

I know that many of you wonder how I juggle it all, especially the baby and the 2 year old. Naturally, the 2 year old is eager for my attention and I try so very hard to show her that she is just as special and loved as her baby sister, even though the baby needs my attention more frequently for nursing sessions.

Of course, since this seemed to be a battle ground, I offered for my darling two year old to have a taste of Mommy's milk and told her that she too, when she was younger, drank my milk. She seemed eager at the idea and so I gently unlatched the baby as my elated 2 year old leaned in. I prepared myself that it might not end well since the 2 year old now has a mouth full of teeth and hasn't suckled in a very long time. As she neared me I squeezed once, quite firmly, and 2 steady streams of milk shot forth. One landed directly into her mouth and the other into her eye.

As she shrieked and thrashed on the floor I excused myself to empty my bladder in a more suitable place than the glider rocker in the nursery.

Since I believe that every moment has potential to be a teachable one, I also reminded her that there's no use crying over spilled, or mis-directed milk.

So you see, it is with grace and meekness and a quiet, humble spirit that I accept this awarded title that the committee has chosen me for this year. I've never been one to boast in an award in such a way and I hope my acceptance speech has demonstrated exactly why I feel that I am 110% the obvious candidate for the title of

Okayest Mom of the Year.

If you would like to schedule a mentoring session, please be sure to stop by my house. Our door bell is broken, but please do not hesitate to send in the panty-clad toddler, who is in the driveway, eating an uncooked, frozen pizza, in to look for me.

Thank you all. Have a wonderful evening.

I've been wanting to sit down and actually blog for a long time. But, I felt pressured that my posts needed to be something of substance. And well, I don't have that right now.

But, before this was a place for me to share about missions, it was a place for me to document my family's life. It makes me sad that I've allowed that to slip away in the wake of my grief. So, my plan now is just to blog a little each week and if it gets deep in here, then it gets deep. If it stays superficial and sticks to updates on our life and our kids, that's fine too.

So, the last time I really blogged about the ongoings of our family was May. That's pathetic. SO MUCH has happened since May.

For starters, we moved in July. We bought a house, we painted, we expanded the amount of bedrooms in our house and I think we are settled. I still have stuff to hang on the walls but now it's less about the emotions behind it and more about the fact that the main level of this house was done in the 50s and the walls are plaster, y'all. PLASTER.

It's not easy to hang anything up. So if you know how to hang up pictures on plaster walls without having to drill a hole and add one of those plastic anchors, I'd love to know.

In August, we found out that Baby #8 is a(nother) GIRL! The boys weren't quite so thrilled at first, but now everyone is eager Beavers to meet this chick. Including me. Because she clearly doesn't understand that this isn't my first rodeo and it's not fun for her to lay sideways/diagonal/all on one side and rhythmically kick me in the cervix.

Around that same time, Amanda found out that they are expecting their second child. Here's a photo of us at the baby shower she threw for me in October. My first baby shower I've had since the twins, by the way. Which, A) I didn't realize there was so much new crap that was necessary for a baby. And B) It's weird having a baby shower when you've already got 7 kids. Even when I really did NEED all of the things I received because my stuff is worn slap out, but still. It's weird.

I'm 28 weeks. She's 16. No comments please. Yes, she's pregnant. I promise.

At the end of October Amanda and Nick loaded up all their possessions and their adorable daughter and moved to the other side of the ~~world~~ country to follow God's call for Nick to be in full time military service. We had a small 1st birthday party for their daughter (a month or so early) where I tried my best not to ugly cry. I held it together until the night before they drove out of town. Then, it was snot city y'all. Poor Luke. His pregnant, emotional wife lost it on him. He may or may not have cried a little too. We miss them just about every other second. But who's counting? Oh wait, all 9 of us are.

I was blessed with a half sister who is 13 years younger than me. She was 5 when I went off to college and I never moved back home. So we aren't as close as I wish we were. But, somehow God allowed Amanda to become just like a sister to me. Seriously. I probably annoy the crap out of her texting her all day long, telling her about the weird things my pregnant body is doing and telling her how she should live her life. And I don't really care because sisters can be annoying and bossy like that. And also, she loves it. I think.

We are homeschooling again this year. I bought this new, elaborate, beautifully designed curriculum over the summer at our state's homeschool convention. I went a whole new route and just knew it would be the perfect thing for our family. We moved, and about a month before I had planned to start school I opened the perfectly packaged boxes of curriculum, got high off the new-school fumes and sat down to plan out our days.

I stared at it blankly for two days while my planning book sat empty, called other veteran homeschool moms, debated joining a local co-op that meets once a week, panicked, tried to find all the books at the library, failed, then promptly boxed that beautiful curriculum right back up and sent it back to the company for a refund. I shed not one single tear.

We are doing our own thing this year with a compilation of resources. It might be the best year we've had so far. Which, of course, means that I'm already scheming what I want to change for next year. Because clearly I appreciate torturing myself.

The baby is due at the end of December. I'm hoping she holds on until January because it's hard to compete with the Savior of the World for your birthday and also our anniversary is December 28th and I'd like to not feel guilty when our 20th anniversary rolls around and I want to take a european cruise vacation like Jen Hatmaker is doing right now and be gone on her birthday.

Which now that I think about it, maybe coming between Christmas and our anniversary would be ideal because then if we leave on our anniversary trip I don't have to worry about being back in time for a January birthday. But if she's born early January we could just go after her birthday.

Also, Amanda will be in town through the first week in January and I'd like to have her here for the baby's birth since I'm pretty sure I don't remember how to bring a baby home from the hospital without her. Decisions, decisions.

Like I have any control over it anyway. But still. Remember Ella? Lord help me.