Happy Mother's Day. . .

The universe has tested me this week.  Last week's blogpost came from a place of centering and pure thought.  The morning after the post, the picture below appeared on FB.  The picture is truly amazing because it captures so many emotions after Carter was done riding the sheep.  A sheep that he himself begged to ride.  A sheep that Bradley carefully placed him on.  A sheep that he hung onto for dear life, was bucked off of, lay down in the dirt for a few seconds, and then raised up into his dad's arms.  Of course there were tears, but following the tears was sheer pride.

The old adage is that "a picture is worth a thousand words".  Some random person on FB began posting really negative things about the picture.  His rants attacked our son and our parenting.  Because I am a faithful rule follower and someone who has good sense, I did not return any of his posts because I was at work.  During this time, it was really hard for me to go back to the place I was in when I published the blog the night before.  A place of living in the moment, of realizing what was important.  Instead, this "poor sap" as someone referred to him, received several responses that were equally, if not more harshly written than his own untruthful claims.  An entire online community rallied behind the photograph, not because they knew us, but because they understood what the picture represented.  If we constantly allow our youth to thrive in a society where everyone earns the trophy, and no tears are allowed, what will happen when the real world comes knocking.  If we don't allow our children to face things willingly, that they might be scared of, then they will most likely not further attempt things they might fail at.  Human instinct is a wonderful thing, and to protect our intuition from failure or fear might suffice in the moment, but repeatedly will do more harm than good.

Already feeling like "mother of the year" because of the negative things written by Mr. Mande, (whoever he is), the week continued to get worse.  I must admit, that although this online community gave us great support, I did indeed question my parenting skills.  Was I wrong to allow him to mutton bust?  Did I subject him to "irreparable ramifications"?  I think Carter sensed my doubts intuitively because he proceeded to throw the most embarrassing fit in Karate Class on Tuesday that I have ever witnessed from ANY CHILD.  I have never before felt so out of control of a situation as I did in that little room on Tuesday evening.  I was just hoping it wouldn't get posted on FB, lest this Mr. Mande character get ahold of the evidence.  After repeated attempts to calm him down about his fears of me leaving him (?), it was obvious that we just needed to leave.  The walls of my mothering instincts crumbled as I drove home to screams of terror and "I don't love you anymore Mommy!".  Who was this child?  Was I being pranked?  The universe was surely testing me, only 48 hours since my "deep" post.  Yes, live in the moment, remember what is important, raising boys who will be. .  .

I am not one of "those mothers".  I don't force him to do Karate, and I most certainly did not make him mutton bust.  However, I will NOT allow the disrespect he showed that evening to continue.  Needless to say, after his piggy bank was emptied, and he has gone without TV and an iPad for a week (and no special chocolate milk - this was his dad), we don't think it will be happening again.  Just to be sure, we are ALL going to karate tomorrow evening.

Following the FB rant, and Carter's fit, I was a bit unsure of him going onstage to perform in a dance show on Saturday night.  I know, I know, what you're thinking.  .  .  "Rodeo, karate, dance, she IS that mom!!",  I'm NOT.  His unpredictable behavior at karate left me reeling inside, fearful of what he might do in front of 200 people on stage.  I held my breath as he entered, and then began crying.  He OWNED that stage.  Stole the show.  I was one proud momma.

Ironically enough, this entire week Miles has been an angel.  Normally, he is the one who gives us trouble.  Not in the last seven days.  He almost seems to be relishing in his brother's poor choices.

One week after I thought I had an epiphany worthy of sainthood and good deeds, I finish this post on Mother's Day.  A day to relish in the fact that I am the mother to two of the most amazing young men, and another little boy in heaven.  I told Bradley that I wanted a run, a Bloody Mary, and that I did NOT want to cook or clean anything today.  The run was amazing and I shared it with a good friend.  The Blood Mary turned into two Mimosas at Bob's Ranch House for brunch, and dinner was prepared by my boys and cleaned up by Bradley.  I am so blessed that I was able to spend half of the day with my own amazing mother.  We are so different, but I owe so much of my personality to her.  My dad would always tell me that "the two of you butt heads, because you are so alike".  I see it now more and more.  My boys gave me lots of love, and my mom decided that this mother's day was the right time to present me with some breast enhancers.  Nothing says "Happy Mother's Day" like your 67 year old mother recognizing that your children have sucked the life right out of you.  In this week, in more ways that one.  I love you Mom!