Run for your life
It was a monday. I am never ready for mondays. I think I just get caught up in the 'ignorance is bliss' feeling that the weekends bring. Not that our weekends are completely blissful... but having two adults to wrangle three kids is a perfectly acceptable definition of bliss these days.
My dear sister-in-law, Joanna, was over for a visit with her 'first-born' daughter, Emma Claire. My completely adorable niece shows up for all of her appearances looking like a magazine cover... complete with matching bow atop her head at all times.
(If I had my own reality show... the camera would now pan over to Emma Claire's cousin, my third-born... just two months older. Sweet Mary Adeline, bless her heart, seems to always appear on the scene in a fuzzy Christmas sleeper ,yes I know it's March, with a drooly bib on that optimistically declares 'friday'. Why did I ever get those stupid days of the week bibs? They never happen to match up on the same day... which only results in further confusion, not to mention the ongoing deterioration of my mental capacities.) Note to self: throw out those ridiculous bibs immediately.
Anyway... I was hoping my children would somewhat cooperate with the fact that our visitors might not appreciate feeling like they were spending a day at an amusement park... but to no avail. So I finally decided to turn on a movie after a chaotic morning of chasing them around yelling things like... "Don't slam your brother into the window!" ... "If he's screaming and crying, then he's not enjoying the hug." ... or my personal favorite... "Please get your foot out of Adeline's mouth!"
Ahh... a good Disney movie... the soundtrack of my life. I know them all by heart and can hardly contain the overwhelming nostalgia of watching them with my kids. Today's pick... Bambi. Which I know can be a bit traumatic for the children, but they haven't quite picked up on the fact that 'the mother gets shot'... so we're good for now.
I get the kids set up with snacks on the couch and forbid Evangeline to get up. Joanna and I try desperately to figure out what on earth we were even talking about before the chaos hit it's peak... but probably ended up moving on to a different topic. Mother's are very good at this... very deep and meaningful conversations in the midst of chaotic situations. I mean, seriously, I can't tell you how many phone conversations I've had with friends that ended something like this...
"You are being attacked by the enemy. Don't believe his lies. (Evangeline stop hitting your brother!) You are a good mom. It's not the end of the world. Do not run your car off a bridge. (Doodle, you can't wipe your poopy with your sock.) Jesus, please be with my friend... I rebuke any spirit of dissension and turmoil in her home (Doodle, stop hugging Brotha... he's turning blue) ... and we ask you to be near to her and comfort her while she's feeling insane (Evangeline, only wipe your butt with TOILET PAPER)... In Jesus name, AMEN."
So basically... us mom's can handle a lot of noise and chaos. We keep moving, talking, encouraging, caring, praying, changing diapers and wiping noses... but even the best of us reach the end of our ropes occasionally... well, let's just face it... DAILY.
Perhaps this 'straw that broke the camel's back' moment was intensified for me by the all too appropriate soundtrack that was playing in the background. So just walk with me through the meadow of life for a moment...
"Ahh! The meadow!" the soundtrack of my day was lighthearted and fresh. Bambi and his friends frolicking in the flowers, butterflies circling overhead... my sweet children momentarily captured by the Disney magic.
"Ahh... life is sweet." I caught myself thinking as I sat down to feed Adeline and continue chatting with Jo in the other room. We probably had a few chuckles about how crazy my life is... and how I just can't wait until little Emma Claire is running around naked and screaming her ABC'S.
Either way... I should have known that this peaceful moment wasn't destined to last long.
The meadows that we frolic in, accompanied by the lighthearted notes of the flute, are only covered in flowers for a moment. Because anyone who has ever seen Bambi before... knows what's about to happen... the mother is about to get shot.
Now, I'm not sure if Doodle was inspired by the long, drawn out minor chords of impending doom... or if she simply wanted to see my 'deer in headlights' routine. But regardless... a very dramatic scene was about to take place in my living room.
Just as Bambi and his mother sensed a bit of danger... my dear Evangeline decides to defy her implicit orders to 'not get off the couch', by getting off the couch, retrieving the remote, turning our beloved Disney movie on full blast... and then proceeding to hide the remote. Followed by jumping back on the couch and pretending that she didn't do anything.
With the intense swell of the music I jump to my feet, startled and gallop into the living room to survey the situation.
"Evangeline... did you get off the couch?!" (trying to stay calm as I yell above the overwhelming music). Elliot starts crying from his pack n play. I start darting to every corner of the room. "Evangeline! Where did you put the remote?!" Adeline joins with Elliot in clear protest of the chaos.
"Lily Evangeline Rockey. You look at me right now." (naturally, Doodle closes her eyes and turns her head the opposite direction).
All of a sudden with a few strains of the cello... my living room is transformed into an open meadow... and I, the frantic mother. Darting to and fro trying to gain the control of my foolish fawn... but with little success. Clearly... the best option in a moment like this is to run for my life... every man for himself! But for some reason I took on the panic of the moment, overwhelmed with frustration by my naughty firstborn.
The soundtrack slows down and intensifies. Mother? Bambi! "Evangeline... get up and get the remote right now(calmly gritting through my teeth)."
Doodle giggles.
I pause for an inner monologue... "This is your life, Jessica. This is it. Your naughty 3 year old is out of control... which clearly reflects the fact that you are indeed, out of control. The cherished Disney movie that molded your whimsical childhood, is now mocking your very existence. You are a deer in headlights... your child, the foolish fawn or the hunter?... well, let's face it... both. If this is how your are feeling after almost four years of motherhood... how on earth will you ever make it through the teenage years? You aren't cut out for this. Where's the nearest boarding school? You need a vacation... or at the very least, a pedicure. Get your act together. Make a decision! Do something. The thicket... where's the thicket?!"
The soundtrack picks up a bit, with more intensity... mother?! mother?! Bambi! (Doodle jumps to her feet, clearly enjoying the drama of the moment).
The music is shouting to all who can hear... Run for your lives! The hunter! He has a gun! This isn't looking good for the mother! Take care of yourself, frantic mother. Obviously, Bambi can't die... it's his movie! Just get out of the situation for heaven's sake!
My frustration hit it's peak with a twitch of the left eye... and one last ditch effort to gain the attention of this foolish, naughty 3 year old... EVANGELINE. GET.THE. REMOTE.NOW. then go to your room.
Music swells then comes to a dramatic pause... BAMBI WAIT! Evangeline gives one more rebellious shout NOOO!!!
... and BANG! (the mother gets shot).
So... what's to be learned from such an ordeal? Off the top of my head... I'm thankful for even the most intense situations, because there is always an opportunity to lighten up and laugh at one's self. Thank God for a sense of humor.
I've learned to never have an inner monologue while being shot at. Because, honestly, it's just not the best time to consider boarding school and pedicures.
And more than anything, I'm learning that in moments of intense crisis and danger... the best idea is to get out of the line of fire and into the nearest 'thicket'...
My dear sister-in-law, Joanna, was over for a visit with her 'first-born' daughter, Emma Claire. My completely adorable niece shows up for all of her appearances looking like a magazine cover... complete with matching bow atop her head at all times.
(If I had my own reality show... the camera would now pan over to Emma Claire's cousin, my third-born... just two months older. Sweet Mary Adeline, bless her heart, seems to always appear on the scene in a fuzzy Christmas sleeper ,yes I know it's March, with a drooly bib on that optimistically declares 'friday'. Why did I ever get those stupid days of the week bibs? They never happen to match up on the same day... which only results in further confusion, not to mention the ongoing deterioration of my mental capacities.) Note to self: throw out those ridiculous bibs immediately.
Anyway... I was hoping my children would somewhat cooperate with the fact that our visitors might not appreciate feeling like they were spending a day at an amusement park... but to no avail. So I finally decided to turn on a movie after a chaotic morning of chasing them around yelling things like... "Don't slam your brother into the window!" ... "If he's screaming and crying, then he's not enjoying the hug." ... or my personal favorite... "Please get your foot out of Adeline's mouth!"
Ahh... a good Disney movie... the soundtrack of my life. I know them all by heart and can hardly contain the overwhelming nostalgia of watching them with my kids. Today's pick... Bambi. Which I know can be a bit traumatic for the children, but they haven't quite picked up on the fact that 'the mother gets shot'... so we're good for now.
I get the kids set up with snacks on the couch and forbid Evangeline to get up. Joanna and I try desperately to figure out what on earth we were even talking about before the chaos hit it's peak... but probably ended up moving on to a different topic. Mother's are very good at this... very deep and meaningful conversations in the midst of chaotic situations. I mean, seriously, I can't tell you how many phone conversations I've had with friends that ended something like this...
"You are being attacked by the enemy. Don't believe his lies. (Evangeline stop hitting your brother!) You are a good mom. It's not the end of the world. Do not run your car off a bridge. (Doodle, you can't wipe your poopy with your sock.) Jesus, please be with my friend... I rebuke any spirit of dissension and turmoil in her home (Doodle, stop hugging Brotha... he's turning blue) ... and we ask you to be near to her and comfort her while she's feeling insane (Evangeline, only wipe your butt with TOILET PAPER)... In Jesus name, AMEN."
So basically... us mom's can handle a lot of noise and chaos. We keep moving, talking, encouraging, caring, praying, changing diapers and wiping noses... but even the best of us reach the end of our ropes occasionally... well, let's just face it... DAILY.
Perhaps this 'straw that broke the camel's back' moment was intensified for me by the all too appropriate soundtrack that was playing in the background. So just walk with me through the meadow of life for a moment...
"Ahh! The meadow!" the soundtrack of my day was lighthearted and fresh. Bambi and his friends frolicking in the flowers, butterflies circling overhead... my sweet children momentarily captured by the Disney magic.
"Ahh... life is sweet." I caught myself thinking as I sat down to feed Adeline and continue chatting with Jo in the other room. We probably had a few chuckles about how crazy my life is... and how I just can't wait until little Emma Claire is running around naked and screaming her ABC'S.
Either way... I should have known that this peaceful moment wasn't destined to last long.
The meadows that we frolic in, accompanied by the lighthearted notes of the flute, are only covered in flowers for a moment. Because anyone who has ever seen Bambi before... knows what's about to happen... the mother is about to get shot.
Now, I'm not sure if Doodle was inspired by the long, drawn out minor chords of impending doom... or if she simply wanted to see my 'deer in headlights' routine. But regardless... a very dramatic scene was about to take place in my living room.
Just as Bambi and his mother sensed a bit of danger... my dear Evangeline decides to defy her implicit orders to 'not get off the couch', by getting off the couch, retrieving the remote, turning our beloved Disney movie on full blast... and then proceeding to hide the remote. Followed by jumping back on the couch and pretending that she didn't do anything.
With the intense swell of the music I jump to my feet, startled and gallop into the living room to survey the situation.
"Evangeline... did you get off the couch?!" (trying to stay calm as I yell above the overwhelming music). Elliot starts crying from his pack n play. I start darting to every corner of the room. "Evangeline! Where did you put the remote?!" Adeline joins with Elliot in clear protest of the chaos.
"Lily Evangeline Rockey. You look at me right now." (naturally, Doodle closes her eyes and turns her head the opposite direction).
All of a sudden with a few strains of the cello... my living room is transformed into an open meadow... and I, the frantic mother. Darting to and fro trying to gain the control of my foolish fawn... but with little success. Clearly... the best option in a moment like this is to run for my life... every man for himself! But for some reason I took on the panic of the moment, overwhelmed with frustration by my naughty firstborn.
The soundtrack slows down and intensifies. Mother? Bambi! "Evangeline... get up and get the remote right now(calmly gritting through my teeth)."
Doodle giggles.
I pause for an inner monologue... "This is your life, Jessica. This is it. Your naughty 3 year old is out of control... which clearly reflects the fact that you are indeed, out of control. The cherished Disney movie that molded your whimsical childhood, is now mocking your very existence. You are a deer in headlights... your child, the foolish fawn or the hunter?... well, let's face it... both. If this is how your are feeling after almost four years of motherhood... how on earth will you ever make it through the teenage years? You aren't cut out for this. Where's the nearest boarding school? You need a vacation... or at the very least, a pedicure. Get your act together. Make a decision! Do something. The thicket... where's the thicket?!"
The soundtrack picks up a bit, with more intensity... mother?! mother?! Bambi! (Doodle jumps to her feet, clearly enjoying the drama of the moment).
The music is shouting to all who can hear... Run for your lives! The hunter! He has a gun! This isn't looking good for the mother! Take care of yourself, frantic mother. Obviously, Bambi can't die... it's his movie! Just get out of the situation for heaven's sake!
My frustration hit it's peak with a twitch of the left eye... and one last ditch effort to gain the attention of this foolish, naughty 3 year old... EVANGELINE. GET.THE. REMOTE.NOW. then go to your room.
Music swells then comes to a dramatic pause... BAMBI WAIT! Evangeline gives one more rebellious shout NOOO!!!
... and BANG! (the mother gets shot).
So... what's to be learned from such an ordeal? Off the top of my head... I'm thankful for even the most intense situations, because there is always an opportunity to lighten up and laugh at one's self. Thank God for a sense of humor.
I've learned to never have an inner monologue while being shot at. Because, honestly, it's just not the best time to consider boarding school and pedicures.
And more than anything, I'm learning that in moments of intense crisis and danger... the best idea is to get out of the line of fire and into the nearest 'thicket'...
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