When they struggle

I don't think there is a parent alive who is a stranger to struggling.
The sleepless nights and zombie exhaustion. Figuring out breastfeeding (it isn't easy for all of us!!). Not understanding why on earth that baby is still hungry when they ate 25 minutes ago.

And let's face it, there's another 1,252,788 things that parents struggle with.

But when it's your child that struggles... it isn't you that can't figure it out, but your child, well, that's kind of a different story. We can't go to bed early and they wake more rested. We can't stay up reading novels and suddenly they know how to read. We can't go to the doctor and eat our veggies and have their sickness healed.

We help, we love, we teach, which let's face it, is work. But we can't do it without them, without their work, without their brainpower and effort.  

My baby boy struggles in school. It's hard. It's tear worthy. And the boy is smart! I know he is. His last year before kindergarten we spent half our day home together playing board games. And I could hardly believe what a whip the boy is. So, why is spelling and reading and writing and math so darn hard now? I don't know. I don't have that answer. I wish I knew. I wish some magical motherly this-is-the-answer light would turn on inside my brain! 

Where is my magical mother light?

The other night I was checking over the homework he'd done for the week, only to find out that he'd done it all wrong. He had to do all of it over.

He wasn't happy.

I wasn't thrilled.

Still, I tried to smile. I gave my best attempt at a it's-not-a big-deal grin and then we reread the instructions--and I explained those instructions. And after a few tears, he got to work. He did it. And he did it well.

I didn't do it for him.
I couldn't.
I helped. I loved. I taught.

And I pray and hope everyday that will be enough, because, people, that's all I've got! I don't know what else to do!

And school is just one thing. What do we do when they struggle with friends or bullies or an illness? What about all the crazy awful temptations in the world? What about those???

Stop. Me, not you. I can't help my kids if I'm in the mental home.

My own personal--> Recap-
We can't live for them.

We can teach them.
We can love them.
We can pray for them.

So, we love and teach and pray. And then what?
My magical mother light is saying have faith, have hope.
That's all I know.
I'm out.
I'm going to go practice spelling "CHRONOLOGY", because like my 4th grader, I'm not sure how.

When do boys stop eating their boogers?

Boys.
I have three of them.
Three.
And according to some strange old gal in Walmart that fact alone is sending me straight to Heaven.

Boys.
They smell.
Their rooms. Their clothes. Their shoes.
They smell.
It's true.
It's not one of those myths or old wives tells that people say that's all exaggerated.
They smell. Weird. Pungent. Stink. And a smelly candle or febreeze doesn't make it go away.

They're loud.
Not like, "Hey, that TV is a little too loud. Could you turn it down?" But more like, ----- ---- ---- -- ....I'm speaking, you just can't hear me, the boys are too loud.

They run around like crazy people trying to get away from zombies. They run around the kitchen table even though it's right next to your breakable nativity and even though you told them not to just yesterday... an hour ago.... 5 minutes ago... They run. It's like there is something inside of their bodies that says: ready, set, GO!

They have some strange hearing loss issues. "Go clean your room." can't ever makes it's way into the inner ear, but a whisper to someone else of "Should we catch a movie this afternoon?" sinks right in.

All of these things are true.
Not kidding.
No exaggeration.
All of them.
And yet, I have no idea what I would do without my boys.

I am so greateful that I am not in charge.
I would have sent myself  a house full of girls. Sisters.
And probably one sweet son--that's what my mom had and it seemed to work out perfect.
Yeah... only that wasn't for me. God knew better.
Thank goodness.
He sent me sons: #1, L, and the Sheriff. Oh, how I needed those boys. And then of course the little cherry on top, Little Miss. --I need her too, but today, it's about the boys.

Boys--at least my boys, love their mom so fiercely. When they were smaller they would look at me like I was the most beautiful thing on the planet. They didn't care that I had day old puke on my shirt or hadn't washed my hair in three days. I was Momma and that meant something great to them.
They hug me like they may never see me again and kiss me goodbye any and every time they leave the house.
They are very good to me and they are exactly who I need. Because of them I will be better mom to Little Miss too. They have taught me to be more patient and to get over things quick! --I'm still working on both those skills, but they're helping me.

I love my boys.
I need my boys.
The End. :)

For Realzies

I love that little Sheriff of mine.

He got to bring a book to school today and he begged me to let him take my ARC copy of LIKE HOME.

I didn't mind, but I told that 9 year old boy he probably wouldn't want to read it. It might not interest him.

haha

He didn't care. He was so excited. 

Then as I dropped him off I heard him tell his friend, "This is my mom's book and it comes out for reals May 15." 

:)

It made my heart smile.

I sure love him. And it makes me so happy that he's proud of his momma.

And he's right. 

It does. 

It comes out for "reals" May 15!