I Want My Mommy!

I just put the kids to bed.  One was crying  because he chose to stay up past the book reading time.  "If you want me to read to you, we have to go to bed now."  Nope.  So I stepped out of his room to his sister's and he started, "I want my mommy! I want my mommy!"  I kissed the sister goodnight and said, "I am needed in the other room."  It is one of the great, incredible, and heart-warming parts of motherhood - to simply be the solution just by being the mommy.  Nightmares? Mommy.  Tummy ache? Mommy.  I cannot control much, I cannot even come close to fixing everything - but there are a few things that I fix just because I'm Mom.

I went into his room and sat on the edge of his bed.  He crawled into my lap and sobbed.  "Mommmmmyyyyy."  I said, "I understand how you feel.  Sometimes, even at 39 years old, I still want my mommy."  He said, "You do?"  I said, "Yes, I do.  Do you know the last time I wanted my mommy?"  He said, "No." I said, "Yesterday.  Would you like to hear this story?"

Yesterday, you took a nap in my office on the little blue and white chair while I was working.  Do you know the chair? The little white chair with blue stripes.  That chair was my Nana's chair and I've had it in our office since she died, 9 years ago.  She was a wonderful Nana, and I loved her very much. When she died I got a lot of her stuff and that chair is very special to me.  

You slept on the chair for a long time while I worked.  When you woke up you were cold.  There was one of our blankets on the chair and I wrapped you in it.  The blanket had been draped over that chair for a few months.  When I was done working, I said "OK, let's go up!"  You said, "Mom, carry me?"  I said, "Of course."  You stood up, I wrapped you up like a burrito in the blanket and picked you up.  I gave you a big hug and I smelled you.  It was unusual because all wrapped up in the blanket that had been on my Nana's chair - you smelled just like Nana's house - nine years later.  It struck me.  I was amazed.

And so right then, I wanted my mommy.  I wanted to tell her, "you can't believe what just happened!"  So we walked up the stairs to the kitchen and my phone rang.  And do you know who it was?  My mommy.  It was like she knew.

So you see, whether you are a little peanut or a full grown mommy like me - you will always want your mommy, and somehow I'll know, just like my mama knows.



Sorry, what was that?

My youngest, the Happy Critter, is a messy eater.  Whatever he eats ends up on his face.  After his daily breakfast of Eggos and Jimmy Dean turkey sausage he undoubtedly has syrup dripping down his belly, up his nose, and on his cheek.  When he gets dressed we usually wipe him down with a wash cloth or wet wipe.  

Last week he went upstairs after eating and I cleaned the kitchen table before getting him ready for the day. He had some time to mess around before I got to him.  He played in his sister's room, then in his, minding his own business.  I went upstairs after fifteen minutes or so and said, "OK, kiddo, lets get you ready for the day!"  He had syrup all over himself.  I grabbed the bag of wet wipes and started on his belly.  Then the following conversation transpired:

Me: OK, hold still, I need to wipe your face off.

Him: No! Mom! I have crapshit on.

Me: Sorry, what was that?

Him: Crapshit.  I have crapshit on my lips.

Me: All the more reason to wipe your face off.

Him: NO MOM! I HAVE SISSY'S CRAPSHIT on.  You can't wipe it off.

Me: You have your sister's crapshit on your face?

Him: No, it's pink crapshit.  (At this point he rubbed his lips together.)

Me: Oh! Are you saying Chap Stick?

Him: Yes, crapshit.  It's fruity!



My family had our first ever group photo taken.  17 people in white and blue, plus one red.  It was a perfect evening, with the exceptional sun dropping into night.  Afterward the whole clan came back to my house for dinner.  I tossed some apps on the table and then snuck into the office and ordered pizza for delivery.  Four 18" pizzas, ready in 45-60 minutes.  I thought better of the delivery timing after I hung up; so called back to tell them I would pick it up.

My sister drove me to the pizza place.  I hopped out of the car to get the food.  I entered and the girl at the front desk asked, "Can I help you?"  I said, "Yes, I'd like to pick up my order for Mel" She typed at the computer bee.boo.bah.boo.bee.bo.  No order for Mel.  She said, "What is your phone number?"  She typed again at the computer bee.boo.bah.boo.bee.bo.  No order for that number.  I said, "Remember, I called it in for delivery and then called right back and changed my mind to pick up?"  She looked at me as if I had three eyeballs.  She said, "Let me ask Roy if he took your order."  I knew he hadn't because I spoke to a girl.  She stepped into the kitchen and spoke with Roy and another girl.  Maybe it was that girl.  I was starting to panic; 15 hungry people were waiting at my house for pizza that hadn't even been made yet because these idiots confused my order in the order taking process.  I thought, "Don't get mad. It'll be fine."

Roy and the girl returned and he asked, "So you ordered for delivery but now you are here and want it for pick up?"  I said, "No, I called the order in for delivery but then called right back and said I wanted to pick it up so it would be faster."  He said, "What is your name?"  He typed, Mel.  No order for her.  He tried my phone number.  No order for that.  He said, "Ok... well. We do not have your order...so..."

I said, "That can't be! I ordered four 18" pizzas, one with cheese, one with..." The girl interrupted me.  She said, "Wait. What did you say you ordered?" I repeated, "F.O.U.R. 18" PIZZAS."  She smiled, "Ok, well you should go next door to FRANCO'S PIZZA.  This is Hong Kong Cuisine."

So I'm the idiot.  

Over my tears of hysterical laughter, the kind girl at the counter at Franco's Pizza asked, "Are you ok?"  I replied, "Yes, the Chinese spot next door didn't have my pizzas."  She chuckled and said, "That happens all the time..."  No it doesn't, but thanks.  I had just gotten myself together when a strong brut of a guy appeared carrying four very large pizza boxes my way.  I said, "Oh THANK YOU!"  I went to grab them from him and he said, "No, I'll help you carry them out."

I pointed to my sister's car, still grinning ear to ear and then opened the back seat door for him.  He stepped one foot off the sidewalk and bent forward to place the pizza in the car.  Then he farted.  Then I looked at his butt because he had just farted and I was in absolute disbelief that this pizza pick-up was going soooo terribly wrong.  It only made it worse to look at the butt that had just farted - because his pants weren't well fitted and his hairy butt crack appeared below his shirt tail.

You see.  It's like this: delivery.  Just get delivery.