Referee

I know I am a mom, but sometimes I feel more like a referee.  My wardrobe should consist of black and white striped shirts with whistle accessories (and black, suede, wedge knee high boots----just dreaming.)

Lately Noah and Abram have been rough-housing constantly. To try to keep them contained and not destroy the house is a miracle.  But, they are boys and that is what boys are suppose to do (or so I am told.)  And now that it is winter, we are cooped up inside more often then not.  I know they are itching to go outside and play in the dirt just as much as I am (I really miss my garden.)  But, unfortunately we live in the arctic tundra and the dirt is frozen.

There are days when I feel like I yell more than I talk nicely.  "Get off of your brother...don't come crying to me if one of you gets hurt...furniture is to sit on, not climb on...what happened to the monkey that was jumping on the bed...do you know how much an ER visit costs..." and on and on...  I am a patient person but sometimes little boys know which buttons to push to set mom off.

Our days consist of sword fights, gun battles, army brigades, racing, building forts and lots and lots of energy.  I think that the most difficult aspect involving parenting is when your day comes to an end, you are exhausted.  Somedays I feel so tired that I could lay down anywhere and go to sleep.  I can literally lay down on the floor, or sit up on the couch and doze off.  One time I laid my head down on the table at the library and was fast asleep (this could partially be because we night nurses can sleep anytime, anywhere.) And then on the other end of the spectrum, we have children that are never ending balls of energy.  I wish there was a way to channel their energy to heat our home.

When mom took away the foam swords, they decided to create their own.

So, I sit on the couch, sometimes in a fog of being overwhelmed by everyday life and feeling like a failure as a mother, while I am watching my children battle with foam swords (again, which I have read... and have been told... is completely normal.)  How does a mother of two boys, two dogs, and a cat (not to forget the third child...the husband) keep her sanity in the dead of winter?  I may never figure that one out.

But then at night, when the snow is falling gently on our Christmas lights, and our hurricanes are lightly snoring in bed, they look completely peaceful.  Like little angels.  I could sit and watch them sleep for hours.

Maybe I am not the worst mother in the world.  Our home is still intact.  We laugh and giggle far more than yell and cry.  When Aaron comes home the boys run into his arms and excitedly scream "DADDY!"  Maybe we do not have to be the best parents.  Maybe unconditional love is really all that two little boys need.

"You don't really understand human nature unless you know why a child on a merry-go-round will wave at his parents every time around - and why his parents will always wave back."  ~William D. Tammeus