Recently I posed this question on  Facebook:

Fill in the blank, “You know you’re a mom when_____.”

Check out the answers I got to that question.   Just how many of these answers can you relate to?

You know you’re a mom when…

…you strategically place your “accessories” to cover spit-up stains on your clothes.

….you cook dinner with one hand because you’re holding a baby on your hip and your toddler is wrapped around your leg.

….taking a nap and snuggling with your baby is more appealing than a girls’ night out.

….you know all the words to the Veggie Tales songs.   (Deb Seger)

I am definitely guilty of that last one!  (We’ve also gone through a Thomas the Train stage and currently Scooby Doo…both of which have CD’s at the library that I’ve heard far more than my fair share of times!)

You know you’re a mom when…

…your conversations revolve around poop.

…you finally have a night out with just your husband and you’re ready to go home by 10:30 p.m. !  (Kelly Smith)

10:30???  I’m happy if we make it to 9:00.

You know you’re a mom when…

…you think waking up at 7:00 is sleeping in!  (Ginny Marie of Lemon Drop Pie)

…you’re still in sweats at 4 in the afternoon.  (Shari Lynne of Faith Filled Food for Moms)

…you realize your heart has left your body and is now traveling around with your children.  (Squigly’s Playhouse)

That last one is so true!  (The other two are also!)

You know you’re a mom when…

…you leave the house in sweatpants you wore yesterday and also slept in and don’t plan on changing until sometime later!  (Sarah McClelland of Little Bins for Little Hands)

….the baby pukes on you and you’re not grossed out! (Karen Dawkins of Family Travels on a Budget)

…when you willingly catch someone else’s puke with your bare hands.  (Kathy Mills)

…on vacation you spray everyone, even strangers, with sunscreen and forget yourself.  (Mayor Crazyville)

…you correct the behavior of the kids of total strangers in the store. (Beverly Wedder)

…you hear yourself say, “This is why we don’t do fun things!” (Kristen Andrews Barton)

… when you catch yourself spelling an answer to someone’s question even though  kids aren’t  around.  (Cathi Menter)

I’m glad I’m not the only one who just starts spelling out of habit!  Of course that won’t last much longer with one in kindergarten!

 You know you’re a mom when…

… Instead of handing a cashier payment, you had them a pacifier.

… your baby spits up in bed during the night and you just cover it with a burp cloth and go back to sleep.

… you walk out of the house with your shirt on inside-out.

… you tell your child she/he has something on her/his face and proceed to like your own finger to wipe their face.

… you and your husband hold full conversations all about poop.

… you find spit up on your shirt, but decide it’s too much work to change it.  (Country Bunkin Momma)

Don’t see your favorite answer to the question?  Just how would you fill in the blank?  Leave me a comment and let me know!

You know you’re a mom when…

The post You Know You’re a Mom When… first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.

You’ve heard the old adage, “Actions speak louder than words.”

This is doubly important when you think about the messages we send our children each day.

Yes, we tell them, “I love you.”  And when we see their new artwork or what they’ve built with blocks, we tell them, “Great job!”

But what do our actions say?

If you “fix” the creation she built out of blocks while she is out of the room, what message are you giving her?

If she helps you fold the laundry and then you refold it, right before her eyes, what are you telling her?

If he greets you with a big hug and the tops of half a dozen dandelions and you toss them into the trash instead of finding them a glass of water, what message did you just send him?

If he dresses himself for the very first time and winds up with his pants on backwards or his shirt inside out and you immediately pull off his clothes and fix them, what are you telling him?

If you log on to the computer as soon as you get home instead of asking about their day, or you leave the room while they are telling you about their latest drawing, what does that say?

If they ask you to play with them, and you tell them, once again, “In a minute…” and then you keep scrolling through Facebook, Pinterest, or whatever, what have you taught them?

I don’t want my children to feel like they aren’t good enough or that they can’t live up to my expectations.  I want them to be proud of their accomplishments, to learn independence, and know that I love them just as they are.  I want them to feel valued, to know they are more important than a silly computer game or the latest Facebook status.

Every day we send our children messages.  The question is, what kind of message do you want to send your children?

Shared on some of these blogs and
  and Natural and Free’s Best of 2013 link up.

The post Messages We Send Our Kids first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.

Being a mother changes you, in ways you never thought of.

Your priorities, your routine, your hobbies… It all changes.

Before children I never dreamed I’d be a stay-at-home mom.  Even when I was pregnant, I couldn’t imagine staying home with the kids.  I loved working with my middle school kids, seeing that moment when they finally “got it.”  I’d get up in the morning, go to work, come home and grade papers and think up future projects.

I’d read, a lot.  All kinds of books (ones without pictures) while lounging in the sun.  And on the weekends my husband and I were involved in various pistol shooting competitions.

You know how women ooh and ahh when they see a newborn?  Or how so many women just seem natural when it comes to getting down on the ground and playing with a young child?

I was never that woman.

Little kids?  I just couldn’t connect with them.

New baby?  Yeah, that’s nice.

About the time they got to middle school is when they got interesting to me.

But it all changed when they placed that 5lb. 8oz. squalling little girl on my chest.

I bawled for a week before I had to go back to work after our daughter was born.  Those last few months of the school year were the longest months of my life.  Suddenly, the one thing I never thought I would do was the only thing I prayed for — the chance to stay home with her.

My schedule now a days?  I try to get up before the kids so I can sip my cocoa in peace and think of what fun we will have that day.

Monday?  It’s swim class day.  Tuesday?  Story time at the library.  There are play dates, picnics at the park, and trips to the zoo.

Hobbies?  I can’t remember the last time I went to a pistol competition.  And the only books I seem to read lately have a lot of rhymes and pictures.

And that’s okay.

It’s more than okay.  It’s perfect.

Now when my husband and I go out to dinner I find myself gazing at babies and thinking back to when my own were little.  If I’m out shopping I can’t walk past a child without smiling and waving.

Yes, being a mother changes every single thing in your life.

And I can not imagine my life any other way.

.

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The post Motherhood Changes You first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.

I hung up the phone, starting to second guess this idea.  6:00 was awfully late to be meeting; bedtime is 7:30 after all…

As I pulled out of the driveway, I started wondering when that change happened.  When did 6:00 start being “late” to go out?

Just what happened to the girl who used to go dancing until midnight or later?  Whose boots actually touched the top of the bar once in a “Coyote Ugly was a great movie” kind of moment…

When did 6:00 become late to go out, and just how did I get stuck with a 7:30 curfew as an adult?

I was still pondering these questions when my cell phone rang.  Her husband was running late, which meant she’d be meeting me a little later than we agreed upon.

Already at the restaurant, I called my husband.  I guess I already knew I wouldn’t be home at the start of the bedtime routine, but now it was looking like he would be getting them asleep by himself.  A first.

The fact that she’d be running late actually turned out to be a blessing.  Knowing I’d never make it home in time to help get the kids asleep meant I was no longer checking the clock; the “curfew” disappeared.

Over drinks and dinner we did what girlfriends do best — talked about everything and anything.  It wasn’t until the waitress stopped by and mentioned she would be leaving for the evening that we checked the time.  4 hours had flown by, and we agreed it was time we both headed home.

On the drive home I realized something.  That girl that used to stay out past midnight isn’t really gone.  Maturity and children may have changed her, but that’s okay.  It’s better than okay.  She still has that connection with her best friend that allows them to lose track of time for hours on end, and now she has 2 beautiful children she can’t wait to tuck in at night, and a wonderful husband who was waiting up.  And she wouldn’t change that for the world.

Happy to be linked up at Lemon Drop Pie

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Up until just a few months ago I was always the one who got our son to sleep while my husband got our daughter in bed.  On nights he worked late, I’d rock little guy and sing loudly enough for our daughter to hear me in her room.  That task was made easier when he stopped wanting to be rocked around age 3, but I still would be in his room while I sang to both of them.

Then one day he decided he wanted Daddy to put him to sleep.  And so we started taking turns, switching kids every night.  Usually this works out, but on nights when Monkey is super tired, those days we didn’t take that much-needed quiet time, where they played hard all day… Those nights are a little harder.  Those are the days he still wants his momma, even if it’s supposed to be Daddy’s turn to get him asleep.

And Momma is weak.

I melt a little every time he wraps his arms around me to give me a hug goodnight and then says, “But I want Mommy to sing to me.”

I know I probably shouldn’t, but I give him one more big hug when he comes running back, and when the doors close, and he starts to cry that he wants Mommy, my heart goes to him.

Sometimes Daddy can get him calmed down, and my little girl and I will read her bedtime story and continue our night time ritual with no further interruptions.

But that was not the case tonight.

Tonight the tears turned into wails, barely a breath between his sobs for Mommy.

Instead of growing softer, they grew louder and louder, making it impossible to read the princess story she had brought to me.  And I know she saw my glance towards the door.  “Mommy, I think I’d like Daddy tonight,” she said softly.

I know it was her way of saying it was okay for me to go.  But part of me wonders how much of that was because she saw my glance (and maybe she wanted him to just be quiet) and if somewhere in there she wanted me to stay.

It’s moments like that that make me wish I knew the “right answer,” if there is one.

One thing you have to know about our little guy is he has never been one to just fall asleep crying.   Nope, even as a baby he could wail for an hour straight if you let him and keep going, stopping only to puke, because he is one of those who pukes when he laughs too hard or cries too long.  So a part of me feels guilty that I went to him, even though she suggested it, because it was really her night with Mommy.  And part of me knows that if I hadn’t, he’d probably still be crying and she’d still be up, too, because who can fall asleep with that?

And again, Mommy Guilt wins for the night.

The post Mom Guilt Rears Its Ugly Head at Bedtime first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.

Perhaps it’s happened to you, that moment in your life where you find yourself saying, “Oh my goodness!  I’ve become my mother!”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my mother.   And by no means was she a bad mother;  after all, she raised 3 children to be contributing members of society.  But those moments always catch me off guard.

When the constant clutter starts to get to me; when all I can see is the mess and not the two happy kids begging me to play…  When I find myself taking the dirty dishes out of the dishwasher so I can put them in the “right” way…  Those are the moments.

You see, my mother is one of those people who can fold a fitted sheet and make it so crisp it could be put on the store shelf.  Seriously.  Not only that, but once when she was visiting she actually took the sheet I had just folded and then refolded it.

I can remember playing with my sister when I was younger, but I can’t for the life of me remember playing anything with my mother, except board games and puzzles.  My sister is 7 years older than I am, certainly when she was at school during the day there had to be a time when my mother played with me.   But I don’t remember.

What I do remember is the house was always clean.

Always.

The laundry was always folded as soon as it was taken out of the dryer.  I remember helping sort the fresh, hot socks, learning to fold the underwear just right.

The kitchen floor was swept daily, mopped once a week, and waxed.  Waxed!  (I’m sure my mom cringes when she sees the dog hair that seems to forever be on my kitchen floor, no matter how often it is swept.)

Indeed, when my parents are coming up to visit, I spend the hour and fifteen minutes it takes them to travel up to our house scrambling to try to clear the clutter off the kitchen table, run the vacuum, sweep the kitchen floor and pick up a hundred or so miscellaneous toys and clothing items.

So, why is this on my mind right now?

Lately I’ve realized that while we’ve done plenty of crafting lately, and plenty of preschool stuff, it’s the princess dolls, Polly Pockets, and superheroes, that I’ve been neglecting.  Ten years from now I want my little ones to remember Mommy on the floor, playing with them.

I want those memories, too.

The post Turning into My Mother… first appeared on There's Just One Mommy.