Can You Feel The Power? ~ a mothers path to insanity or serentity

Is it not completely insane to think that “I” the wife and mother of the house holds the fate of every individuals day who lives here in the palm of my hand? You may think I am being incredibly self absorbent, on a power trip or simply just that I have lost my mind by making that statement, but please indulge me for a minute of your day.

That first glance of my glowing coffee pot in the early morning is like a beam of salvation for a sleep deprived mother of 3. Many thoughts crossing my mind as I mentally check off all the “to do’s” of my day. I then begin to question why I have so much to do..then blame myself for feeling  like my kids or I have to participate in everything which then is preceded by a lack of motivation, bad attitude and completely feeling sorry for myself. This is all before I even devour my first cup of joe! Soon after, I am dragging my older kids out of bed to prepare for school, coordinating early pickup times to leave for sporting events in addition to trying to avoid the “Battle Royal”  currently being played out in my living room between my two horse sized dogs. By this time I almost have completely lost my mind. Yet, I carry on in successfully finding my husbands shoes he is so frantically searching for, double checking backpacks and brushed teeth while swiftly pushing them out the door to school. Breathing a sigh of relief I turn only to find two large dogs and a two-year old staring into my eyes as if I needed to report to them five minutes ago. At this point I have 2 paths I can choose:

Path #1: March by them acting like I never even saw them, go directly to my coffee pot for round two and sit on my couch to watch a “reality” show set in a warm location with women who dress amazing, have nannys, and go on lavish vacations. Thus, Resulting in a state of complete depression, contemplating “what my life would be like” scenarios in my head if I was as “fortunate” as these women. All while getting nothing accomplished in my house, walking in to my toddlers room finding drawings on the wall, and on her entire naked body and then one of my dogs eating the crayon evidence. ( dont even ask me where her clothes were)

Then we have….

Path #2: Acknowledge my daughter, let the dogs outside to play, and make some breakfast “during” breakfast time. Complete my dishes while having a conversation with one of the loves of my life…her eagerness to discuss whatever is on her mind leaves me with nothing but laughter and a smile as she carries on about the important aspects of a two-year olds life. This path results in actually accomplishing something, interacting with one of the most important things in my life and possibly gaining a renewed sense of self-worth to carry on the remainder of the day.

While most of you are thinking HELLO CRAZY LADY its obvious, path #2 should always be your choice. All I can say is , the result of path #1 regarding a naked two-year old artist and accomplice Weimaraner are nothing less than 100% reality in my home. It’s no lie as mothers and wives at one point or another you are going to feel some of the same emotions I have, and you will choose your path. This choice will not only impact you, but will also have a lasting effect on everyone in your home. My short temper in the morning with my dogs can spread to my 12-year-old daughter like the plague, which then gets passed to my 7-year-old son when he bumps into his big sister by accident trying to get to his toothbrush in the morning. All while my toddler is watching us all interact and suddenly becomes hostile with the dogs giving her a sense of invincibility as she gets the courage to do a tightrope walk along the back of the couch, only to be found by her dad rushing around last-minute to find his shoes so he can leave for work on time. Swiftly removing her from a sure trip to the ER that morning, he looks at me like I was on vacation the whole morning. Which then results in me reacting like a psycho ward patient in front of everyone. This is just and ugly picture to paint. Ultimately the whole point of this entry is to realize how much influence I have on my family. I can totally control the mood and attitude of everyone. While this is a huge responsibility to only be taken seriously I cant help but feel like a superhero with all this power. While motherhood brings so many trials, I look back at it all as lessons learned and mistakes still being made yet the blessings it all brings in reflection makes the journey ahead so much more bearable. What path will you choose today?


Mom’s of Fall ~ memories of a football mom

Contemplating what to have written on your eye stickers for your football game can take a while, seeing as you must have an einy meiny miny mo contest with each selection. Being a 6-year-old boy has got to be difficult. I mean your shaping your entire image in one statement under your eyes for the entire game, it can be stressful. Thank goodness for purchasing a pack of 20 for any last-minute changes of heart. Not only is the small, black stickers on his face molding his attitude and drive for the game, but making sure his underwear is perfectly distributed and smooth under his padded pants is not only necessary but a life or death issue in our home. Proper preparation is everything, one crumpled sock in a cleat could mean he can’t run as fast, a un cinched belt could mean no chances for a touchdown, and lets certainly hope his shoulder pads are tightened properly, that could result in a fumble. I mean how can you properly tuck a football in that condition? Sunday game day is full of excitement and anticipation. Looking forward to that chance he will get a touchdown or sac that he wants so badly is worth all the time it takes in making him feel comfortable and confident. If he feels like red Gatorade is more powerful than purple…so be it… red it is! These are just some of the little details that I enjoy most about being a football mom. Sitting on the creeky wooden grandstands, or pacing on the damp, freshly cut grass along the sideline is where you will find me on Sunday afternoons. Armed with my cameras, photo pins and loud voice I cheer for my son and his team. Echoing on the field are sounds of helmets knocking, shoulder pads smashing, and whistles blowing. Parents cheering passionately on each side of the field for their young athletes to achieve only their greatest. Watching my son jog off the field drenched in sweat, taking off his huge, heavy helmet and looking at me with his beautiful big blue eyes full of confidence and gratification is more than any mom could ask for. My son is a constant blessing from God that inspires me each day to  be a better mother and person. Football season just happens to highlight one of many memories I choose to cherish forever.


Myself, My Purpose, My Armor

Check out my entries on today!

Check out my entries on today!

Journaling thoughts, memories, and true feelings of motherhood and daily life for me is categorized in my life as a hobby. I enjoy the time alone I get to put all the words, thoughts, and pictures in my head down on good old-fashioned paper. I have been doing this for a while now and after reading some to my husband he felt that so many other parents can find truth in so many of my entries. In all my writings I found a similarity to my style, I like to laugh, cherish, and count my blessings everyday, even when they don’t seem like a blessing. God works in so many ways in all of our lives and recording these on paper and then looking back on them is an amazing affirmation of what is going exactly right in my life. I envision my journal as my armor, when I feel down or loosing confidence in what I am doing for my family on a daily basis, I look back at some of the memories I created for my family and bask in those for a short time resulting in a refreshed, renewed spirit that no one can destroy. A Mothers Heavenly Armor is a place I can record my thoughts and entries from my journal in the hopes that one person who is questioning their role in the home, as a wife, or a mother for a split second can see that they are not alone.  ~ Jennifer Winsted