Hangin’ Tough

Not a single soul had spoken to me for the last two hours. I announced to every person in the house that I was going upstairs and would be back in 20 minutes. Clearly, this was a rookie mistake. Never make your presence known lest you want the predator to devour you. I had barely turned the water on when the door opened the first time.

Handsome #2- Mom! Can you make me something to eat?

Me- Can you please give me a few minutes?

Handsome #2- Yes, but hurry!

I shampooed and almost conditioned before the next interruption. A naked from the waist down light saber-wielding child appeared and opened the shower door. 

Me- Honey, I am in the shower. What do you need?

Handsome #3- Um, nothing. I don’t need nothing.

Me- Where are your pants?!?!?!

Handsome #3- I lost them. But, I could find them. Mom! Can you wipe me, please?

Successfully wiping a child with one hand while putting the rest of the conditioner on your head with the other should at the very least come with a cash prize.

Once he was gone, I thought I’d try shaving my legs. Then I heard the screaming from the other side of the door, the only one of my children to give me any privacy.

Handsome #1- Mom! The baby is crying!

Me- Put the binkie in her mouth, I’ll be there in five minutes.

I wanted a few minutes of uninterrupted time, but instead I got to speak to all three of The Handsomes and got a status update on the baby. As I stepped out and caught a glimpse of my face in the foggy mirror, I cried. I cried big ugly tears because all too soon, it will be over. I will miss the screaming and yelling and constant emergencies. I will miss the hugs and the kisses and a chubby sweaty hand grabbing mine. I will miss my little loves needing me as they become more independent and self-sufficient.

As much as I wanted to wallow in my sorrow, I decided that my husband finding me in a heap on the bathroom floor wouldn’t be the best way to kick off his weekend. My mother always says that a little bit of fragrance and a fresh coat of lipstick can alter your mood instantly, so I figured I would give it a shot. Despite the fact that I am now a mother of four, nearing forty with a road map of stretchmarks and other badges of life’s experiences, The Grillin’ Fool still likes me and he deserves me at my best.

And today, the very best I could do was my signature red lips and a New Kids on the Block T-shirt that could likely find a home in the Smithsonian. I snapped a selfie, because no one would really believe that I not only still own this shirt but wear it often. And just like that, as if on cue, from the first floor I heard, “MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!”



7 Comments on Hangin’ Tough

  1. Gayle
    June 10, 2016 at 8:13 pm (4 years ago)

    your hair looks great!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  2. Keri
    June 10, 2016 at 10:05 pm (4 years ago)

    I love your stories. And I love the way you tell them. And I love your shirt. And I also cry because I don’t want this to end. Ever.

  3. Gail Wilson
    June 10, 2016 at 10:12 pm (4 years ago)

    You’re beautiful inside and out! Love this story, and it’s so true. They grow up so fast. Most people don’t recognize it until it happens.

  4. Bev Long
    June 10, 2016 at 10:37 pm (4 years ago)

    Love your hair also, wish mine looked like that!!! Kids are a full time job; yours are so cute. It’s true, you turn around and they’re grown!

  5. Diane
    June 10, 2016 at 10:55 pm (4 years ago)

    How long have you had the tshirt?

  6. Cindi
    June 11, 2016 at 11:35 am (4 years ago)

    You are doing a great job at life! You are correct…all too soon those little darlings will be gone! Love reading your adventures!


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