I need to send a box of chocolates to my kids’ Guardian Angels. Seriously.
As a mother of a large family, I can humbly say that I cannot possibly watch over everyone. When someone asks, “How do you do it?” I laugh and honestly say, “I don’t!” You see God wanted these munchkins to be with me and within the context of this crazy family.
Oh, and we are crazy. To emphasize this point, I thought I’d share some humbling family moments.
In my early years of parenthood, I was still learning to get the baby out of the front carrier. My husband stood in front of me and pulled him straight out and up…into the moving ceiling fan. The result of which was a distraught momma and railroad track on our baby’s head. While I was worried he would not be able to say his ABC’s, this child is approaching high school and can, with relative ease, recite all 26 letters 🙂
Two of my boys once decided to tie their karate belts together, “fastening” them to adjacent bunk beds. The idea? To see if they could climb across. (Boy Scouts take note, knots matter.) A trip to the ER and stitches on a forehead.
Two went through a potion-making stage where the hydrogen peroxide bottle and root beer were mixed. After a call to poison control, only a small amount was ingested. Carry on, momma. The same day, two others decided to take out the glow sticks and play with them in the basement. Toddler chewed through one and was spitting it out yelling, “Uck!” Another call to poison control. (Seriously, when you are calling poison control twice in a day, there must be flashing bells going off in that office.) The result — Glowing child “ok” but goes around spitting the rest of the day. Poison control and I are on a first-name basis…
Our preschooler goes into the bathroom. In there for quite a while. Our new puppy is in there as well. I remind him to flush the toilet when he is done. He replies, Oh! Don’t worry, momma. Finny ate it.” *Note to self, no dog kisses for a very long time… possibly never.
Our dare-devil child in a wheelchair decided to drive his chair up a steep hill with his brother riding shotgun off the back. My husband had just run the kids down the street to karate. “Be back in 5 minutes.” This momma was on bed rest, watching from the living room couch as said wheelchair tips and falls backward… on his brother. I run outside, lift the wheelchair, rescue stuck child, readjust the child in a wheelchair, (all the while avoiding a sweat), and wave calmly as the husband arrives home.
Oh, there was the day my three oldest sons decided it would be a great idea to draw masks on their faces with sharpies…
The last one I can think of — more humbling than injury incurring — is when we visited our beautiful Catholic sister friends, and they were having confession outside. Our younger son watched as Father Havier set up the two lawn chairs under the tree by the rose bushes. He watched as sister by sister came and spoke with Father. Halfway through, he walked slowly around them and into the kitchen. He came with a plate of last night’s pizza and a glass of water. Interrupting Father while hearing confession, my son said he must be hungry from all that talking and gave him the plate. Father said, “Oh no, thank you. I don’t like pepperoni, little one.” My son replied, “Oh, that’s okay. I will eat it!” and climbed on up and ate the pepperoni. We all still laugh about this one.
These memories, they live on in our family as folklore of old. Embellished as the days progress. I am grateful for my angels here on Earth and my angel sent from above to keep them safe 🙂
Fantastic post.Really looking forward to read more. Will read on… Thrash