>> Saturday, February 6, 2010
“I’m jumping in the shower!” Where the last words I spoke, before my glorious delusions of being a good mom were sucked out the window.
My two younger boys are playing across the street at a friend’s house.
The oldest boy is happy to watch the one year old.
It’s just to good to be true, I’m out of here!
I often meet with Jesus in the shower… (Jesus our Lord and savior, Not Jesus, the landscaper.)
I’m sounding pretty darn good, singing tracks off Third days worship CD. Just so sad, I can’t sound this good in church.
My final verse of “God of wonders,” comes to an end, and I’m feeling refreshed.
As I emerged from my steamy sanctuary, my mommy senses start tingling.
Oh Lord, please don’t let that be MY kids screaming outside. Not my kids…someone else’s kid, please.
Peering thought my bedroom blinds; I am shocked, and appalled at the carnage on the streets below.
No, the screaming is not coming from my kids; it's being caused by one of my kids.
Armed with a 4 foot long stick, Sam, my sweet 4 year old son, is beating the snot out of some boy.
There is 5, maybe 6 boys, all packing sticks and play guns. Looks like a seen out of Lord of the flies!
Oh dang, oh dang…what will the neighbors think, I have to stop this chaos, before someone loses an eye or something!
Yanking up the blinds, and pulling open the window, I start Yelling.
In my most authoritative Supper nanny yell…
“SAM-SAM STOP THAT NOW! SAMUEL LUKE! THIS IS YOUR WARNING!”
Sam is ether using his best selective hearing…or he really can't hear me over his victims screams for help.
Screw Supper nanny…now I’m using the Psycho mom scream…
“SAM…SAM, PUT DOWN THE STICK! GET IN THIS HOUSE, NOW!... NOW!”
Well this gets him to pause and look around…and all the other boys also stopped, looking for who’s mom was loosing it.
Taking a break from loading rocks into his toy gun, Jonah points up to my window,
“Oh, hey mom.”
Sending the eyes of the entire army of flies, up to the window I was standing in.
Just then, cool air coming in from the open window, chilled my still damp, BARE SKIN.
My brain snaps back into my head, realizing…In my haste to kill my son, I had failed to get dressed.
Standing there, in only my bra and underwear, (thank God for that much) I was now, THAT MOM!