Happy Mother's Day!

Sometimes, it makes me laugh. And sometimes, it makes me cry. Sometimes I even cry because I'm laughing so hard! If I'd known how much fun it was going to be, I would have tried it sooner, yet if I'd known the hardship it entails, I'm pretty sure I would have waited.

I didn't know that something that utterly zaps me of energy could also absolutely replenish me. It fortifies me to know that this is what I still want to be, even though there are days when I just want some time off!

I have surprised myself with tear-drops spilling from my own eyes when I see my precious ones being so brave and keeping their own tears at bay. I'm thankful for the cacophony each day brings: shouts and giggles and stomping and dancing create a symphony that I am trying to appreciate, even when the orchestra sounds out of tune (which is sometimes the conductor's fault, I think!).

I had no idea that sharing a 10-year-old's mirth would be so enjoyable. And I certainly couldn't foresee that I'd be changing a 7-year-old's pull-ups (with no end in sight) and still like that same 7-year-old. I have learned to appreciate from the 7-year-old kisses full of slobber and from the 10-year-old hugs that are forced.

I have learned that I am not heard as well when I yell instead of when I whisper. I swore I wouldn't, but I have caught myself repeating certain phrases, mimicking the voice of one before me.

I am so glad that I can still be comforted by my own. And I am supremely grateful that the recipients of too many failings absolve me of my mistakes. What's more, I think they really want to keep me! I'm so glad I don't have to do it alone. Perhaps most of all, I am sustained by the knowledge that I will always be this. And that makes me very happy.

Because I am a mom.

Here's What I learned from Poison Control

Did you know that in the world of poison control, there is no such thing as a child-proof cap? They accept that something - for example, a medicine bottle - can be considered child-resistant, but they laugh at the notion that a child cannot pry open a lid that boasts of the ability to refuse to respond to the manipulations of said child's fingers.

Here's another piece of trivia I gleaned this evening: 2 fluid ounces (which is half of a bottle) of children's ibuprofen does not result in toxicity to a child weighing 60 pounds. However, it may induce a tummy-ache (which a kid who ingests that much might deserve!) and tiredness. The tiredness part - which should lead to a nice, solid night's sleep for a child clutching a pink, tricot-covered, bean-filled heart (aptly named "Bean," because doesn't every kid christen heart-shaped pillows?) is the reward for the mom who has to make the phone call to poison control so that she can learn such trifling tidbits as I've shared with you tonight.