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Friday Fun

I have decided that I am occasionally going to dig out a "blog" from my journals every now and then, and today seems like a good day to start.  I do have to mention that the idea for this came from my good friend and partner in crime, Jamie Vaughn. 

The Way of the Mother
Mothering is the proudest profession.  And the oldest, too, despite what some may say.  I have some friends who are having babies, and they are so wide-eyed and eager and well, "fresh."  I guess that's why it's "refreshing"  in a way to see them and all their young mother friends talk as they hover over their strollers.

However, at this stage of the mothering game that I (and many of my friends) are in, having teenagers and older, there are very few things that are "fresh."  I have been excited over report cards approximately 116 times, we have sung "Happy Birthday" at least 47 times, and have put out cookies and milk for Santa about 13 times, when you consider that Oldest Daughter had to put on a show for Youngest Daughter until she learned the truth.   Now, these were wonderful, sweet, endearing memories that made for great photo ops that make you want to say "aww."  And as much as these fresh, sweet, young moms look forward to all of that, there is something that they don't know and can't realize.  These same moms will, one day, after being asked 22 questions in 6 miles of driving, turn to their children and say, "If you do not stop talking, Mommy will (and gentle readers, just pick your favorite here) 1) run away to Mexico, 2) put duct tape over your mouth, or 3) lapse into a Mom coma that she cannot be resurrected from until a whole lotta chocolate has been consumed." 

So enjoy these beautiful days of ear infections, diaper rash, and open-mouth kisses from 14-month olds.  Enjoy the freshness of it while it lasts.  And, when you come out of your first Mom coma, think back on this blog post, and eat some chocolate.  And smile.

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