The Things They Make Me Do

Ah, motherhood. That most blessed arrangement. That dream within a dream…

(Oh, wait — that’s marriage…)

Not much time for posting today, but a few thoughts struck me this morning and were worth writing down.

I’m busy today, packing.

To go camping.

In a tent.

With all three kids, the hubs and our dog.

The likelihood of my ever volunteering for this is slim-to-none. Or, that would be the case if I didn’t have kids. I’ve said it before, but my idea of “roughing it” is staying at a Days Inn.

But when your older children have begged you for years to take them camping, like all their friends have gotten to do, and you are reminded on a daily basis how stinkin’ fast they are growing up and that your time to make these memories is running out, when someone presents you with a very low-cost way of making it happen, you don’t say no.

Even if it means you’ve shaken off nightmares about snakes and public showers and mosquitoes and chiggers all week.

Even if it means dreading sleeping with just a few millimeters of nylon and a couple of inches of air between you and the cold, hard ground. And one tissue-paper thick layer of nylon between your family and whatever it is that roams in the night OUT THERE.

You love your kids, so you go.

I will be sure to update next week on how it went. But if you don’t hear from me, send out a search and rescue team, OK?

I had to laugh about the things kids make us do as I cuddled Jonah on my lap this morning.

While sitting on the toilet.

TMI? Maybe. But you moms know, there’s not a lot that falls into the TMI zone with kids. I tried sneaking out of bed this morning, but Jonah felt me move and dutifully rolled out right behind me. Then followed me into the bathroom and begged me to hold him.

And I looked into those sleepy blue eyes and tousled that wild, sleep-scrambled hair and scooped him up into my arms. And we cuddled and listened to the birds sing outside the bathroom window and I just had to laugh at the crazy things these kids make me do.

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