So I have decided I need to 'introduce' you to my children. Writing my 'whatever-year-old' is getting boring, so I have given them each a fitting nick name. I think it is important to maintain their privacy by withholding their actual names. I don't want a blog post I wrote about pants-pooping to pop up when my kids' prospective employers google them someday!
Iron-willed Politician with Teen Angst: This is my nearly sixteen-year-old son. I guess God was concerned that I may get too full of myself as a mom, so he gave me Politician. His preschool teachers said he would be a lawyer when he grew up, and he has been dubbed 'Governor' at 4-H events. Most people think he is awesome, and I do too, but to say he has been challenging to raise would be an understatement. I won't write too much about him as a teen until I find out if he manages to live up to his great potential in a few years, and also because if he ever happens to find and read my blog, I know he will dissect it until he can find a way to use it as proof that I don't like him. Of course, he is wrong. While he is completely exasperating, he has some amazing qualities that I would not give up in exchange for more peace. I think it is all a package deal!
The Perfectionist: This is my fourteen-year-old daughter. If it weren't for that darn regular A in art, she would have straight A+'s and it really irritates her. She has lots of friends and is a starter on her basketball team. She would have fit the oldest child role perfectly. She was born with some type-A genes from my side of the family that are dormant in my DNA. Just her being her, makes Politician completely crazy so Politician makes her completely crazy, on purpose.
Overly-Dramatic Hoarder: This is my eleven-year-old daughter. Last summer, I loaded the contents of her room into four large totes, and yet, I cannot see any of her bedroom floor right now. It is everyone else's fault, just ask her. But do not dare ask her to pick up anything, ever, unless you enjoy foot-stomping, eye-rolling, bawling, and an occasional, "Why do you hate me?" Apparently, in a family of seven, middle-child syndrome crops up in number three. She is an amazing mathematician, so I have high hopes that her rational mind will triumph over this emotionalism some day!
Stealth Ninja: This is my eight-year-old son. He is the most naturally empathetic and tender-hearted of my children. If I counted all the words the rest of my kids said together and compared it to the number of words he said, the ratio would be about 5 million to 1. He recently told me he 'h-a-t-e-s h-o-m-e-w-i-r-k'. Needless to say, he could use to do a little more of it, if I could ever find him. He has missed out on dinner because he was hiding from me. He also suffers from encopresis.
Know-it-all Sassy-pants: This is my six-year-old daughter. She is smart and cute and she will tell you about it. Here is my favorite story about her that sums up her personality perfectly. When she was four, Ninja told her the ribbon she got at fair was just for 'parpissapation." Her response? "I think you mean parTIcipation and I am telling mom that you said piss."
Lovey Maniac: This is my three-year-old son. He loves to snuggle up and whisper, "You my lovey mama," in my ear during the brief moments when he isn't jumping on the couch, jumping off the stools, running into the wall, peeing his pants, dumping out five puzzles, lining up trucks across the living room, or creating a huge mess in the kitchen because he wants to make his food and drinks, "I-self."
Pretty, Pretty Princess: She's the baby and a really sweet, lazy baby. No further explanation is needed.
Oh, and Hubby, I can't forget him! The love of my life!
I am the mother of seven children ranging from teens to a toddler, living out in the middle of nowhere, USA. I aim to hone the craft of giving advice without pretending to have this whole mom thing figured out. I am Christian, but not the really nice kind that is good at it. I am also conservative, but I promise not to be in your face with political agendas very often. I like to infuse humor into my writing, so don't freak out if you are offended or appalled by what you read here. There is a very fine line between serious advice and sarcastic hyperbole.