20 Things a Mother Should Tell Her Son

  1. Don't ever be a bully and don't ever start a fight. But, if some idiot clocks you, please defend yourself.
  2. Take pride in your appearance. It is the first impression others have of you.
  3. Don't be afraid to be polite. "Yes ma'am", "yes sir", "please", and "thank you" still go a long way.
  4. Peer pressure is a scary thing. Be a good leader and others will follow.
  5. Play a sport. It will teach you how to win honorably, lose gracefully, respect authority, work with others,
      manage your time, and stay out of trouble. And maybe even to throw or catch.
  6. Be comfortable in your faith, sometimes it will be the only thing you have to fall back on in this crazy and
      confusing world. Pray when you need to. Remember, God will never turn away.
  7. Take careful aim when you pee. Someone has to clean that up, you know.
  8. The reason they are called "private parts" is because they're private. Please keep them covered and
       refrain from touching or scratching them in public.
  9. Be strong and tender at the same time. Know when to listen and when to talk.
10. Allow me to introduce you to the dishwasher, oven, washing machine, iron, vacuum, mop and broom.
      Don't ever be ashamed you know how to use them.
11. Your knowledge and education can never be taken away from you.
12. You will set the tone for the sexual relationship. Don't take something away from her you can't give back.
13. A woman can do everything you can do. This includes her having a successful career and you changing
      diapers at 3 am. Mutual respect is the key to a good relationship.
14. Treat women kindly. Forever is a long time to live alone, and it's even longer to live with someone who
      hates your guts.
15. Bringing her flowers for no reason is always a good idea.
16. Please choose your spouse wisely. My daughter-in-law will be the gatekeeper for me spending time with
      you and my grandchildren.
17. Save money when you're young because you're going to need it some day.
18. Potty humor isn't the only thing that's humorous. There is a fine line between funny and not funny.
      Knowing where this line falls is the art of comedy.
19. Be patriotic. In mind, heart and spirit. And, don't forget to thank a soldier every time you get a chance.
20. Remember to call your mother, I might be missing you.

The Fast and the Furious

Last week, we were visited by my parents and niece, from Oklahoma. We spent two weeks getting things organized (and still didn't accomplish all of the organization we'd hoped), and then they were here. The morning of their arrival, we decided to get out of the house and go up to the Eagle Center. A nice family trip to Wabasha.

It was LM's first time seeing many of the animals we saw... eagles, tortoises, snakes, a small crocodile. He put on his brave face, but I really don't think he cared for the scaley reptiles. After spending some time at the Raptor Center, we decided to have some lunch at a little pizzeria (great food... yum-o), and headed home.

I had to get bags packed so LM and I could accompany my family members to Wausau, WI to visit some of my relatives. Of course, the first night, LM started to run a troubling fever. A snow storm greeted us the next morning, along with a 103 temp for the little one. I gave him ibuprophen, cool juice mixed with water and put a cool wash rag on his legs to try to cool him off, then called my parents.

We waited for his temperature to fall... then went to visit the relatives. Poor little guy just oscillated between a decent temp and a high temp most of the day - thanks to administration of ibuprophen and infant Tylenol.

That night, after his temperature was being troublesome all day, my parents decided to rotate shifts with me in my room... so that I could get some rest. That's right... that's the kind of parents I have. In one word... awesome. I can't say how comforting it was to have one of them in my room with me at all times, especially my father. (He has many years of medical training under his belt... and knows what to do in a crunch.)

Somewhere around 10:45, we began to doubt the accuracy of the tempanic thermometer (another reading of 103? Really? Even with ibuprophen on board??). It was just so inconsistent. So my father, the saint that he is, went to his room and got his clothes on... and drove out in the nasty weather on a quest to find a thermometer. Luckily, County Market (right down the street) was open. He called from there saying they didn't have tempanic thermometers... I told him just grab what they had and we'd figure it out. Once he got back, we took the temp and it was at 100.7. That made us both breathe a sigh of relief... because the next option was going to be a trip to the er (the only thing open at that hour)... and likely a hefty out-of-network bill... or a long fight with insurance.

Needless to say, we rose early the next morning, LM seemed to be in better spirits... and his temperature was hovering around 99. We loaded up the car, ate breakfast, went to say goodbye to relatives... and were on our way. The next day, LM saw the doctor - just to make sure. The culprit? A minor ear infection coupled with teething. Hooray for antibiotics!! He's now feeling more like his normal self and wreaking havoc and chaos all over the house again!

You see, before you are a parent, you don't really pay attention to the silence. Sometimes, you even enjoy a few moments of silence... cherish it... and revel in it. Once you become a parent, silence is eerie and even suspicious. If your child is sick, you crave the noise of them feeling better. If your child is quiet for too long, you head out searching for them, expecting some sort of trouble or impending doom.

Silence is no longer golden... it's the enemy.

We love our noise.

Needless to say, my parents deserve a HUGE shout out on this.
I have the type of parents who sacrifice of themselves willingly - not just for their children and grandchildren... but for others as well.
I have the type of parents who will come to my house and help me, no matter what the task. Whether it be cleaning... building stuff... installing tile, helping with a newborn baby... when they are needed,  they are there... no questions asked.
I have the type of parents who practice random acts of kindness daily.
I have the type of parents that refuse to lie, cheat, or take from their children.
I have the type of parents that give of themselves to see their children and grandchildren have the things they did not have.
I have the type of parents you can call awesome... and mean it.

I love my parents. I respect them. We don't always agree... but I know they are usually right.

And I am endlessly grateful to them for being the people they are and helping me become the woman I am today.

Hurting me is one thing... try hurting my son....

Today, I read a story about a mother in GA whose 13-month old baby was shot in the head by someone. She claims it was a 13-15 year old boy and his 10-ish year old accomplice. They shot the baby in the head and wounded her when demanding money that she didn't have to give them.

Now, I hate to doubt people... but my husband is a police officer.  I know that there is always another side to the story... and somewhere in the middle lies the truth. I know, as a mother, I would bring extreme harm to someone who threatened harm to my son.

My own son is 19-months-old. I'd do anything for him. He is the very reason I live my life - he is the reason I get up in the morning... the reason I go to work to make sure he's taken care of and gets anything he needs/wants (within reason).

Let me tell you... from my perspective... a super human strength kicks in when I'm afraid for his safety. I will do anything in my power to make sure he's safe. I don't care what that is. I may not be a tall person... I may even not look strong... but I will NOT let someone push me out of the way to harm my son. It just isn't happening. I'll bite, claw, hit, scream, kick... do whatever it takes. Gun? That's alright. I will find a way. Believe me, I'll go down trying.

I just don't get how someone could push her out of the way of her child and shoot her child but leave her to describe them.

Mommy's Sweet Helper

I think it’s every parent’s secret desire that they will one day have a child that willingly helps with the house work and such. Deep down inside, they know this dream may never come true, but it’s nice to dream. We were definitely blessed.

I watch our LM as he grows. He loves to try to help. He wipes up when he spills things, sometimes he spills on purpose and then asks for a rag by saying “(w)ash” and rubbing his tiny hands together. He helps set up his dinner area… and then helps clean up after dinner. But, the most interesting fascination is the vacuum cleaner.

I’m not sure what it is about the vacuum cleaner he finds so appealing, but I don’t stop to question him about it. I just let him indulge his fascination. Maybe I’m wrong in always doing that, but it’s pointless to argue with a 19-month-old, they tend to win.

I never expected him to take an interest in vacuum cleaners when he was 9 months old (when he started to pick up the cord and follow me as I vacuumed). I thought he’d forgotten about it when he grabbed the vacuum from me at 17 months old and vacuumed most of the family room at my parents’ house. I certainly never expected him to retain the interest, yet here we are, 2 months later… and he saw the vacuum while we were getting ready for work and insisted on vacuuming. Who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Not only did he insist on using the real vacuum as opposed to his toy vacuum, he also moved things out of his way to clean behind them… then called on me to put them back. It was absolutely precious.