Do You Adore Me? Because That Would be Super!

Most of my children are teenagers or are in the process of evolving into that species. In part this means they will no longer admit, despite my awesomeness, that I am the most amazing person they know. I don't necessarily need the verbal accolades, but some respect for the assistance I can provide them would be nice. For example, allowing me more than ten seconds to help them with their math homework before cutting me off mid-sentence and refusing to listen any further - that would be something new and fun to try.

So while giving birth to a tail-ender like D3 at the ripe old age of 37 was torture on my hip joints, it has since proved to be very good for the ego. Because D3 is still miles away from the dreaded teen-age years.

Yesterday, I was "helping" D3 clean her room. This means she picks up one toy for every 27 that I put away. I sent her to put a cup in the kitchen while I continued to work on the myriad of miniature Polly Pocket accessories, Barbie sandals, and Happy Meal toys. When she finally returned, her room had seemingly been transformed right before her eyes.

"Mom!" she shouted in amazement, "Are you some kind of superhero or something?"

Why yes! I am! Thank you for noticing.

It should be no wonder to her older siblings why I act like she's my favorite.

It's a Bird...It's a Plane...

"Mom, if this world had super powers, I know what yours would be: cleaning!" - D2

Don't be too impressed, I am not Super Cleaning Mom. Her standard for cleanliness is simply not as high as most people's.

The Prettiest Sight to See

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Which can be very exciting if you're just getting over that stuffed feeling from eating too much Thanksgiving turkey and you're singing Christmas carols while hanging decorations on the the tree. But when you are planning Easter Egg hunts and the Christmas lights have been packed away in the basement for three months, it's not so thrilling.

Winter storms in the spring, are not uncommon where we live, but ten days ago, while the kids were running through the sprinklers and getting sunburned laying out on beach towels on the driveway, I took that as a good sign to finally clean out the mudroom for the season. Dragging snowboards, sleds, snow boots, hats, and mittens to the basement, I made room for the increasing clutter of flip flops, sunscreen, bottles of bubbles, kites and visors. In hindsight, I should have known such an act would send a red alert to Mother Nature.

This morning, after bundling the children up in their beach towels, I drove them to school in 4-wheel drive and marvelled at our blessed winter storm. Luckily, the holiday decorations are not buried too deep in the basement clutter. Now, if only I could decide what to ask Santa to bring me for Christmas.