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I am a below knee amputee. More importantly, I am also Mommy to two boys, a very active 10 year old (Robby) and an mischievous toddler (Timmy). I have learned that being a parent with a disability can create some unusual and sometimes humorous situations. This blogger is available for hire! Let's talk and learn how a blog can expand your business.

Thursday, September 04, 2014

Mom Confidential

I was surprised to receive a few emails from individuals lauding my decision to become public about our lice infestation. Although high on the ick scale, it never occurred to me that I should be ashamed. I write about so many topics and issues in this blog that it would have felt uncomfortable keeping the latest mom drama to myself. 

The emails started me thinking about different mom issues that I am embarrassed to admit publicly. I suppose everybody has those little quirks that they would prefer remain private. Along that theme, I've decided to reveal my top five Momom secrets (in no particularly order)

1. On my sliding glass door there is a message written in bright green glass marker that reads "No more pencils, no more books. No more teacher's dirty looks." The celebratory ditty was written by Robby and his friend on the last day of school. What most people don't realize is that it was written on the last day of school last year- in 2013. 
Yes, I haven't cleaned the inside of my windows for at least 14 months. If you look below the green writing you will read school starts, September 3.  Again, it was last school year. This year we started on the 2nd, which has been commemorated on a different set of windows.

The markers were an impulse purchase by my husband. I think he should be the one to clean off the writing. We seem to be in a stalemate, and I have little doubt that the writing will still be there when Robby graduates from high school.
2. I love Christmas. Each September I pull out my Countdown To Christmas clock, which begins 99 days before the holiday, to herald the season. We have a garage overflowing with decorations and boxes filled with Christmas dishes. 

For almost a  year, the Christmas dishes boxes have been stowed empty. The Christmas dishes are still in my cabinet and are still being used by my family. We have four plates that are not covered with snowmen and Santa Claus which I try to dig to find whenever we have company. I just never got around to putting the dishes away last January, and now that Christmas is only a few months away, I don't see the reason to put forth the effort. 

Perhaps out of a subconscious need for holiday equality, this cheerful Jack-O-Lantern has been grinning in my living room everyday since it was hung in 2010. Every few months I tap him with a broom to knock off the dust and cobwebs.

3. I adore Robby, who in turn adores turtles. He has a favorite stuffed turtle, aptly named "Happy Face." Happy Face has become quite a talkative little turtle, happily squealing and yapping whenever Robby is actively playing. 

I cannot stand Happy Face's voice. It grates me like fingernails running across a chalkboard. The high pitch, squeaky words frequently send me fleeing from the room.  Yesterday I heard Robby playing in his bedroom and couldn't help but smile. Then I heard Happy Face start to squeal, and I had to fight the urge to stick my head in the blender.
Scott firmly believes that someday I will miss Happy Face's voice. He is wrong.  Part of me wants Happy Face to meet an untimely death.

4.  Scott thinks that I have been suffering from digestive issues. I feel embarrassed to admit this, but in reality I am fine. I happened to discover that if I tell the boys that I diarrhea and run to the bathroom, they leave me alone. I'm not sick, I'm usually just taking a few minutes to myself and checking Facebook. I also have a stash of Dove chocolates in an old Tampon box, in case I want a snack while I'm hiding.

5. On nights when I don't feel like cooking, I casually mention that I am going to try out a new chicken casserole recipe. Inevitably I will field a phone call about an hour later, with Scott offering to pick up pizza, burgers or Mexican food on his way home. I don't know what kind of casserole trauma he survived, but in our 14 year history I have never actually had to make a chicken casserole. I don't know what I'll do if he ever calls my bluff and agrees to the casserole.

I'm not proud of my Mom secrets, but I am hoping that I am not alone. I'm certainly not perfect, but I am trying my best.  See, now admitting to lice doesn't seem so bad! 

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