Mom of the Year, right here, not really

This Saturday I will be nominated for mom of the year…not really.  We had two major spills before nine am…Monkey spilled some juice (he claimed not his fault, since Caboose jiggled him while walking by), and Weatherman was walking around with his sweet tea and spilled it (did I say it was before nine?  Can I retract that?  I would never let my kids drink sweet tea before noon).  And why was Weatherman walking around with his sweet tea???  So after these two fiascos I might have said something to the effect of “If I didn’t want messes, I shouldn’t have had kids”.  Hmmm. 

That might have been misinterpreted by Weatherman to mean that I wish I had never had kids, which led to him hiding under a blanket, claiming no forgiveness for me to infinity.  This led me to one of my least favorite verses (but most effective) in God’s Word; Matthew 12:36 says “…that men will have to give account on the day of judgment for every careless word they have spoken.”  For those of you stuck behind me on Judgment Day, yeah, I am apologizing for the wait now, because I might be awhile.

Which leads me to the come-apart I had after the spills…the old saying “don’t cry over spilled milk”, well, that person didn’t have to vacuum and mop afterward.  I have decided that if I had a super power, it would be “Vacuum Girl”, and I would have a vacuum attachment on the end of one hand  and a mop attachment on the other (you know, like Wolverine and his steel blades).  I could scchhlleep up messes with a single vortex, and mop and shine til I could see my kids’ footprints, without dragging out the big vacuum.  I can dream, can’t I?

I also think of the verse I claimed while we were trying to conceive Weatherman, from Psalm 113:9: “He settles the barren woman in her home as the happy mother of children. Praise the Lord.”  So what if the boys constantly make messes?  This phase doesn’t last forever, right?  RIGHT????  Seriously, I am grateful I have messes to clean (after it’s done) because I know that means I have little ones, my children, a part of Hubs and I that God created and gave to us, to raise to be men of God.  So a little stickiness shouldn’t hurt me ( and hubs says if I would wear shoes in the house, I wouldn’t even notice the stickiness and debris under our feet).  I will remember that the next time this happens, and in the meantime, if you hear of vacuum implants, let me know.

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