Lost and found...

Whether you like her or not, Oprah had some very inspirational words to share yesterday.

Well, the words I heard between screams sounded inspirational.

I made the royal mistake of attempting to watch something on television with both girls awake and present. Either they disliked my attention to something other than them or they just wanted to act like little stinkers. In the end, any inspiration I absorbed from Oprah's last goodbye quickly poured from my head, pooled on the carpet and was splashed in by the girls. 

This weekend Matt and I are playing in a golf tournament...without the girls. Sunday cannot come fast enough. Even now my girls are chanting mom, mom, mom as they eat their lunch. I ate my lunch leaning against the kitchen counter in the room next to them. You know when you try really hard to do something amazingly fun for your children only for the entire event to end in disappointment. Those moments really get me down. Like eating alone in the kitchen down. Or like lick peanut butter off your fingers because it will be one second of something good for yourself that no one can take away from you kind of down.

I have obviously had some very trying moments in the past several days. I keep looking for the sliver of happiness; my double rainbow, but I keep running head first into disastrous, dramatic, silly events. I spend 15 minutes building a mega-super-duper tent that is played with for 3 minutes and then someone bawls their eyes out because they are bored. Just like you I have so many more examples but I already sound like a big, fat whiner. And I am a big, fat whiner. 

All last night I dreamed of my missing iPod charger. I had visions of it being found in the kitchen pantry. I awoke, ran to the cupboard...no luck. I have been very dependent on my iPod lately. When my body tells me I've had enough licks of peanut butter I grab my headphones, crank up the music and drown out the crying/screaming/fighting/begging for just one minute. I found my iPod charger this afternoon, by the way. It was buried under a pile of Matt's shirts waiting for a hot iron. That's what I get for ironing, I guess. If I wouldn't have started ironing then maybe the charger would have stayed where I left it. Which was probably in a spot too easy for the girls to reach. 

Similar to 99.9% of mothers out there, I had false visions of motherhood. I dreamed of visiting places and people with my girls. I envisioned road trips, playing happy board games and sharing stories of our day. Now my girls are young so I I know things will change but at this point in our relationship my girls act like they are caged animals just released into the wild. Then again you could say I sometimes act like a sullen teenager longing to hang with her friends.

Despite all of this they can still pull my heart srings pretty darn tight. Like when CJ falls down and only her mama's kisses can heal her superficial wounds. Or when Kate begs and begs to show me her latest, greatest trick. She is looking for approval from her mom. And my heart gladly gives it to her. I need to etch these moments onto the inside of my eyelids. So that each time I close my eyes and whisper SERENITY NOW I will be reminded that I am their one and only mother. The grass isn't greener. They will get older. They will stop needing me. Before I know it Matt and I will be sitting in our big house with nothing but silence. While that sounds more appetizing than a bathtub full of ice cream, I know that I will miss the noise when it's gone.