Three Cheers for Mothers Everywhere: Guest Blogger

Remember her...

Our lovely and talented Guest Blogger Shannon--she is the one who made you {LOL} when you read her guest post about disasters in the kitchen.

Well she is back--with another story to make you smile!

Three Cheers for Mothers Everywhere

I have been thinking about mothers as of late. The subject tends to cross my mind every now and again as I am privileged to be around littles all day. I have always held motherhood in the highest of regard, but now-more than ever-I am coming to understand the intensity of the sacrifice, love and nurturing it takes to hold this elect calling. Let me tell you how I am coming to learn this: it is by taking trips to the library.

Yes, my friends, trips to the library. Naivety on my sleeve aside, I was completely unaware of the planning, juggling, performing and finagling that this little jaunt requires. Add a picnic on top of that and you might as well hire a bell boy to help you carry the luggage.

The first step is to prepare the lunch. Take only that which will pack well, be minimally messy and easy to clean up. Cut the pears, wash the blueberries, roll the ham (so as to avoid having to get hands all ham-juicy), and snap the peas. Package the crackers, fill the water and milk in spill-proof cups (ha! no such thing), obtain plenty--and I mean plenty-- of paper towels and wet wipes, along with the plates, utensils, bibs, and booster chair required. Phew. Packed. And that only took 37 minutes with minimal interruption for refereeing squabbles, taking littles to the bathroom and helping put dresses on stuffed animals. Wiping noses really takes no time at all, so the bajillion times you do this a day does not count.

Next step is to get socks and shoes/sandals onto little feeties. I'm loving the warm weather here, because the sock process can be skipped altogether if one plays one's cards right and makes the sandals look really fun to wear. However, if socks are a must, please be sure to add 5-7 minutes onto your time for each child so as to allow for cat toes that seem to spring up during sock application.

You've now got the footwear prepared, but where are the children? Ah. Hiding. Because children abhor footwear. It's written in their genetic make-up to resist shoes at all costs. So now, prepare to: play chase/pretend to have so much fun putting on your own shoes that everyone else wants to join in on the fun/use your polite words/make up a shoe song/and or bribe to entice a little to stuff those adorable, pudgy little piggies into those restrictive shoes. And please, by all means, do plan on having to take the shoes off at least once more before leaving the house due to wet pants, crooked socks, or rocks in said shoes.

Now that the library books are in a bag, the lunch is in a bag, the diaper bag is packed with extra clothes for all children (and a box of Kleenex), and the booster seat is buckled to all three bags, you and the children are ready for your venture. Oh, don't forget the picnic blanket. Or your library card. Or the house keys (because I, personally, would never forget the house keys).

All that is left is to strategically place said bags and all children into the bike stroller (which, by-the-way, is the most ingenious piece of equipment known to nannyhood), strap them all in and be on your way. Which is why mothers also double as engineers--and honorary eagle scouts for all of the knots they must tie in order for said equipment to stay strapped in, yet easily accessible at a moment's notice.

You buckle everyone and everything into the stroller, nice and tidy now, and actually make the journey and step foot into the library. Which is where the real fun begins. So many books to take off of the shelves; so little time. And let's not forget to mention all of the fun new hiding spots for little feet to run off to. It's as if children actually enjoy seeing the look of panic and fear strudeled across their caretaker's faces. The once organized stroller is now a mass of crumpled chaos in the seats where the children used to belong--the tissue box, the diaper bag, the soaked clothes from the "spill-proof" cups are all laying in a pile ready and waiting to be organized again, when you get a spare and quiet moment, of course. You mask your stress (very well, might I add) and check out approximately 28 books and two movies for the week. Tinkerbell-check. Dora--check. A barrage of kitty books-most definitely checked. A pit stop (or three) to the lovely public bathrooms, and you are ready to call this outing a success.

Somehow, you make it out of the library with all children accounted for, and most of your belongings stuffed in various available spots in the stroller--minus a shoe or two. Reassure the littles that it's okay to ride in the booster seat while in the stroller as long as everyone is strapped in nice and cozy (just kidding), and be on your way. Play "I Spy" and sing silly songs on your journey home so as to distract the children from biting, pinching, and/or pulling hair. Stop to pick up belongings that have been chucked out of the stroller by curious little hands (yes, if you throw your toy out, it will get run over). Arrive at home and dump all bags and children into a pile, then sort out as necessary. Discover that it is not even noon yet.

Collapse onto the sofa, take three deep breaths, and begin reading stories to the littles. Hear their laughter. Feel them snuggle up. Listen to their sweet little voices. Watch their curious eyes. See their minds working. Feel happiness.

Repeat over and over again. And somehow find the energy to do so in love and patience, in kindness and friendship to these little, precious people. You mothers are great multi-taskers, great mentors, and great people. And I appreciate and admire you.

-Shannon

Thanks for coming back, Shannon--we {heart} you mucho!