The Confessional : Volume 33
It’s BAAACK! (At least for this week!) I don’t know about you, but boy, have I missed The Confessional! The Confessional was a part of my blog that I genuinely looked forward to each week. I loved reading the day to day confessions from other mothers, and smiling that it was not just me who can tell within the first fifteen seconds of a cartoon that we’ve seen it before, or that cleans their entire bathroom with a baby wipe, or saves the Kraft macaroni for herself and her spouse and gives the kids the garbage kind that costs 33 cents a box ’cause they can’t tell the difference….wait…that wasn’t supposed to get in here…hmmm…Onward we go!
I am NOT Supermom, and love that this column so deftly proves it. None of us are. We’re all just regular women, doing the best we can with bouts of hilarity and embarrassment sprinkled throughout. If you’re new to the blog, I suggest checking out The Confessional Archives, as they may just change your life (okay..not really…BUT, they might make you feel better about yourself, give you some validation, or make you laugh…all of which were my original intentions!)
The Confessional has been absent from Chasing Supermom for awhile, and with a decline in mothers interested in writing out their confessions for me (Oh please, oh please, oh please would YOU volunteer?! Do it for the nice pregnant lady?), I am bravely stepping back into The Confessional for your healing and amusement. (I could probably come up with enough confessions to go every week, believe you me, but it is A LOT more fun, and more validating when a wide array of moms take the guest blogging challenge and head into The Confessional for me! Oh won’t it be you? K…done begging..for now..)
Ready to feel better about yourself? Seriously ladies…This is like shamefest 3000 this week, except that I know better than to feel ashamed…I’m just a mom, doing her best, and sharing the
low comedic points with all of you.
Here we go!
Father forgive me…
1. My son has been out of the “deserving of a potty treat stage” for a LONG time now. However, his potty treat has always been gummy worms, and since they are one of my personal favorites, and I’m not a big fan of handing out candy for no reason, he continues to get a worm (and then share one with his mom) whenever he remembers to ask after using the bathroom….
2. I had to pick up my daughter from school, and hadn’t gotten out of my pj’s yet…I just changed out the yoga pants for jeans and threw on my Adidas. (I didn’t even bother to put a bra on.) And, I even spoke to multiple people outside of the car…
3. At this very moment, my three year old son is doing watercolor painting with my basting brush, wearing nothing but a pirate t-shirt. (No lie.) We like to class it up around our house. =)
4. When I become involved in a good book, I am not above admitting that my children may get slightly ignored. I’m pretty sure that the interactions between my children and I during the week I read the Twilight series went something like this, “Yeah, sure..have another fruit snack..I don’t care!” and I’m also pretty sure that was the week I taught them how to use Netflix on their own…
5. I still actively mourn the “passing” of my favorite t-shirt…It was a North Carolina Tar Heels t-shirt (that I found at Value Village, and I care NOTHING about the Tar Heels btw.) The neck line had an additional dozen or so holes, as did the sleeves, and it wreaked of dried up breastmilk and old sweat. I rescued it out of the trash due to low willpower about three times before I finally put it in the trash under a pile of dirty diapers…Just now as I was going through my closet to find “just the right shirt” to wear with my ancient Adidas track pants (on a day where I will see NO ONE but my family) I had a period of mourning over my nasty Tar Heels shirt…(feel free to send a replacement to lift my spirits..) (Again, no lie.)
5 1/2. I settled on my brother-in-law’s high school sweatshirt (that I completely stole), which I wear about every other day, and would wear every day if that sort of thing were socially acceptable.
6. Each morning, my son would ask for pop, as he watched me drink my morning can of Diet Coke. (It’s my coffee people..) Was I going to give him soda? No. So, I found these awesome little 6 oz cans of 100% apple juice. They even have tab tops, made of aluminum, etc….The next day when Henry asked me for a pop, I said, “Sure buddy! I bought you super special apple soda!” and brought him one of the little cans of apple juice. He was over the moon, and like the juice, 100% believes that he is drinking pop for breakfast. (Just like his mommy.) (Proud moments are happening as I write today’s confessional…I gotta say..) =)
7. One day I was upstairs changing my youngest son. I came downstairs looking for Henry. He was nowhere to be found. After frantically running through the house yelling his name, I was beginning to get a bit worried. Lo and behold, I found him. There he was…in the front yard…in the middle of the day…peeing. When I (quite horrified) asked him, “What on earth are you doing?!”, he replied, “Look how far it can shoot!” (Oh the joys of raising boys…)
8. The clothes in all of our closets are hung in rainbow color order by shirt type. Because I’m that
9. Just now I caught my two older children breaking a rule that would have resulted in the dreaded extra-long, way past a minute per year, sitting in the boring chairs time-out if their dad had been home. However, for me, the time-out would have resulted in two children staring at me sullenly for ten minutes and nothing else. So, I decided to put them to work for ten minutes. The three year old picked up all the toys that were out and then vacuumed and the five year old cleaned the bathroom. They had to stop doing the wrong activity and do something other than playing outside (which is what they wanted to do) and I got a cleaner house with no work. Win-win.
I don’t know about you, but I feel better…Sometimes it helps to put it all out there and let your vulnerability show…even in all its grimy, honest glory. Be real. Be you. Wake up and do your best. It’s what we all do. Until next week (hopefully, if some of you will CONTACT ME and let me know that YOU would like to enter The Confessional…helping out moms all over the country…guilt trip…more begging…did I mention I’m pregnant and nice?) , you are exonerated. Go and sin no more.