Moms VS. Dads


This is an actual photo representation of a Mom’s brain throughout the course of a day versus a Dad’s brain throughout the course of a week. {{Totally Kidding}} I believe the photo to be insanely accurate though, at least on the Mom brain because it seems no matter how much I try to quiet my mind and soul, its still hard at work making a knotted mess of things.{{Similar to when your trying to get out the door because y’all are already running late and your child brings you his shoe and its shoelaces are a little knotted up and instead of slowing down and taking your time you whisper a few explicits under your breath and make the knot worse resulting in you flipping the shoe into the air and your little going barefoot.}}

I’m constantly rushing; rushing through my workout, speed-reading through my Bible time and devotional,{{Quite ashamed of this and I’m struggling spiritually because of it}} running through the days lesson plan, shuffling over to the office while gulping a protein shake for breakfast because I didn’t have time to eat after feeding the littles, then as you can imagine the rest of the day is a blur of taking orders, batching trucks, changing diapers, wiping tears, explaining lesson directions, fixing snacks, kissing boo-boos,  and trying to remember to make the littles laugh in between it all. {{By the end of the day I feel like I’ve been slipped something in my coffee because I don’t recall hardly anything and I feel hungover.}}

Then of course there’s the quiet time when I’m lying in bed right before drifting off to sleep and then it really kicks into high gear and every once in a while my thoughts are interrupted by a snore let out by the Hubs and that leads me to cut my eyes at him and mumble under my breath, “How can you just fall asleep so fast?!” and then the thought of going outside catching a cricket and turning it loose into his open, snoring mouth crosses my already noisy brain but ultimately deciding against it because of the chance the cricket might go rouge and hide itself somewhere in the bedroom resulting in MY lack of sleep.

Saturday I was able to get pampered by a sweet older little Korean lady while she scrubbed all the grossness off my feet and painted my piggies and fingernails, it was marvelous, {{except for the pumice bar thingy, then it was squeezing my buttocks, gritting my teeth, squinting my eyes, anything to keep from punting that poor, sweet, little, old lady across the room forcing her to file a restraining order against me. Seriously though who can keep a poker face while thats being done?!?!}} Then the hubs called to see how much longer I was going to be and all heck broke loose, at least in my mind it did. The race was on and here comes stress up the backstretch, headache going to the inside, my threats are holding back, trying not to fuss. {{George Jones remix}}

Mom guilt set in and she came in with a vengeance. I felt so bad because I hadn’t seen my littles since 1 p.m. the day before and now it was closing in on 6 p.m., nauseous because, though my mother in law hadn’t called, I knew she was tired and ready for her house to be hers again, fearful she wouldn’t keep them again because it was taking so long for me to retrieve them, hopeless because even though my husband was there, he resorts back to infant stage when he’s at his Momma’s thus resulting in her having ANOTHER child to take care of! {{On the racetrack of HWY 80 I asked God if the rib that he took out of Adam to make Eve was the guilt bone because my husband has no guilt for anything and I, along with seemingly all woman-kind, carry all of the guilt over EVERYTHING.}} Of course when I got there everything was fine and the littles didn’t even care that I was there and adamantly assured me that they did NOT want to come home and wanted to stay with Ganmomma again.

When we finished up with dinner and watched the game until half-time, we loaded up the younger two littles and struck out headed home, the littles fell asleep en route and the hubs didn’t last too long after his head hit the pillow, leaving me to tackle the Worlds problems solo. In the midst of doing so, a fleeting thought passed my mind so quickly I almost missed it, “Why don’t you do it like a man?” I quickly started with my excuses, *clears throat* I mean answers to that question. “Everything would be a mess!”

Would it? Would it really be a mess? Maybe in your woman mind it would be but look at your husband, definition of Chill. No worries over frivolous things, no guilt over time spent or food overindulgence, just Chill. Therefore I’m making a stand against Mom Guilt and Mom Mind, I’m going to attempt “Chill” because in the end, when my children are grown and gone, they aren’t going to remember the exact number of hours or minutes spent entertaining them, they are going to remember the moments. My children are not going to know or even care about the overly priced, all organic ingredients that went into their meals{{heck, they would rather have the cheap, processed stuff anyways!..I’m not gonna feed them that crap though, at least not all the time, so put your phone down Trish, no CPS today!!}} They are going to remember how Momma fixed their favorite dishes and how we laughed and talked at the dinner table. My littles disregard the price and brand of clothes, they don’t care whats in style, they just want to play and more than likely they are doing just that in just their skivvies! They are going to remember how cool their Momma was for letting them play in the dirt, mud, and rain.

Let’s turn down the Mom Mind and just “chill” for our own sanity, because no one else is hearing all that noise.