Garbage Dumping Thursday

Today is the day. The day of the dump. It feels oh so good, really, try it.

Sometimes Mom is wrong...cringe...
"Mom, I know what would be a fantastic idea! Let's have a hot chocolate stand!" said the sweetest blond haired, blue eyed boy I have ever laid eyes on. My sweet first born son had such a fantastic idea and wanted more than badly to follow through with it.
And I wanted to vacuum.
I wanted to get something done that was so above and beyond so not important and all he wanted to do was to be 6.
He made $6.00. I let it go. And I vacuumed. And apologized...shhh...
Letting it go. Throwing it away.


Humility
This week I had to experience something that was so above and beyond bigger than I. I had to let go of all inhibitions of the medical community and allow someone (with a mask & perfectly manicured scrubs) to take my precious little caboose into an operating room. I made an attempt into the wee hours, of the morning of, to make sure that emotionally I was prepared to experience the experience I was going to experience. I thought it through. I made sure I was prepared. And then it came. And all humility went out the window. And I was there in a big puddle of overwhelmed, mamaness. And I realized that in the grand scheme of things, my part is to be the mom. And even though there is a million things to feel and do when you are the mom, there is no other place on this earth I would rather be, than the mom.
Nobody puts baby in the corner. And nobody messes with mama bear.
Truth be told.
No harm, no foul.
Letting it go, throwing it away.



Decompress, Decrap, loosen up and relax already..
I have taken a step back in the last month or so and matured in a way that I am so not familiar with otherwise. I have relaxed. I have decompressed. I have de"garbaged" (this is a real technical term, ya know!) a lot of really "high school" mentality that I have been carrying since, well, high school. I am not sure if this is because I am feeling somewhat like I am out of the "survival mode" of adolescence upbringing. I may very well be "over the hump" and onto the next technical plateau of motherhood. I could possibly be feeling as though there is a healthy stride, with a whole marathon and a half to go. Maybe so. Quote, unquote.
Either way, it's oh so good to dump the junk.
Thrown it away, letting it go.


The dreaded guilt log
Still "glassing over" and saying, "Uh, huh, you are so right" when all I want to go is get home and get all of the groceries put away after an extra long time at Meijer.

Dreaming about Matt Laurer asking you some sort of intellectual question and you responding with, "Menage A Trois!" When all you wanted to do was serve him a glass of your most favorite wine. Ugg... dreams...

Telling the sweet little caboose, "Buddy! No! Don't eat that off of the floor!" As you are stirring Mac & Cheese and contemplating how many more minutes it will take for meltdown '09 to occur after waiting way too long to feed the zoo animals.

No pedicure since 1st weekend of August. Getting through 2 weeks of the flu and my eyebrows. My love affair with shower gel and a fresh razor -vs- hunting season and growing out hair.
Yah, you know what I am talking about. I would be able to break the blade, trust me.
Sorry honey...

Coffee. And abusing "yummy creamer season" and the tight agreement you made with your waddle that waddles when you waddle. Enough said.

Throwing it all away. Guilt be gone!

Everything laid out in an environmentally safe dumping bag. All recycling accounted for minus my sad attempts at some sort of art projects.
Ready for the big white truck on a frosty morning.
Until next time.

My love, all my love,
Cassy