About Laura

With five kids, one with special needs, a handsome son-in-law, a perfect grandchild (seriously, aren't ALL grandchildren perfect??), a even handsomer husband, my career as a NICU RN....what else would I be doing but juggling?

graduating

It’s a week full of leveling up here under The Big Top.

Moving from red belt to red-black belt; which was more stressful than anyone can imagine and makes it all the more satisfying to achieve.

And this – dammit, this made Mom cry. The shoe salesman might have been a little concerned; I mean, these are just shoes. He has no clue.

Mom’s just getting warmed up as Daniel level’s up from 8th grade to high school. That’s right, I said high school.

 

it’s complicated

Mother’s Day.

Who doesn’t think Mother’s Day is complicated…even just a little bit? I know it is with my Mommy Dearest and myself; but I like to imagine with my kids and me it’s okay…more than okay as they shower me with love via FaceTime, texts, cards, bath bombs, wine, chocolate, licorice, Hamilton lyrics and flowers.

It’s good to be Mom, y’all.

Then my beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy gifted me with a dozen roses delivered to The Big Top with a note expressing how he sees me as nicest, prettiest, smartest mom in the world, and I am done y’all. Done. Oh. My. Gawd. Yes. I cried.

He’s growing up. My baby boy. My fifth and final and youngest child. Grown up gifts, grown up cards with grown up sentiments and I…I am overwhelmed.

Then he comes to me to me at the end of the day overwhelmed in tears as he gives me the handmade gift he crafted at school.

I wanted you to have the most perfect day, Mom. I’m sorry that this can’t be perfect for you.

And, yes, I am a puddle of tears again.

It’s been a grueling, emotional time for this one…testing for his red-black belt in Tae Kwon Do, graduating from Middle School next week…so much more because, people, we are fifteen years old with angst and feelings and hormones.

I pause for a moment, snickering to myself remembering each and every mom in the whole, wide world who told me how much EASIER it is to raise up teen-aged boys, then I hugged my son as tightly as he would let me; whispering fiercely that this Mother’s Day was perfect – it was absolutely perfect.

After the flowers die, I have this, on my my bedside table to remind me. PS He reminded me again in this that I am the nicest, prettiest, smartest mom in the world

Mother’s Day, it’s complicated y’all. I have the BEST kids! Yes, sometimes I am certain that I don’t deserve them either.

Blessed.

I am.

 

 

the big top trifecta

Thirty four years ago today…

…we both had big hair. I had the tiniest waist and yet I thought I was fat in that Gunne Sax dress. Oh, and we got married. A good thing because a few years later, Hollie made us parents; which meant on occasion our wedding anniversary and Mother’s Day would be on the same day. Then twenty-one years ago today…

…this child of ours crashed our anniversary. Naturally it would follow that on occasion May 14 would be our wedding anniversary, Mother’s Day and our Jodie’s birthday (in that order here under The Big Top, of course). Three times since 1996 to be exact.

Weird that we are all not together; I mean what young adult turning 21 wouldn’t want to celebrate it with her Dad and Mom on their 34th wedding anniversary and on Mother’s Day? Oh well. There is always May 14 2023; our next May 14 Trifecta.

for Mother’s Day

Have you seen what mothers want for Mother’s Day on Facebook?

Every year my children ask me the same question. After thinking about it, I decided I’d give them my real answer:
What do I want for Mother’s Day? I want you. I want you to keep coming around, I want you to bring your kids around, I want you to ask me questions, ask my advice, tell me your problems, ask for my opinion, ask for my help. I want you to come over and rant about your problems, rant about life, whatever. Tell me about your job, your worries, your kids, your fur babies. I want you to continue sharing your life with me. Come over and laugh with me, or laugh at me, I don’t care. Hearing you laugh is music to me.
I spent the better part of my life raising you the best way I knew how. Now, give me time to sit back and admire my work.
Raid my refrigerator, help yourself, I really don’t mind. In fact, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I want you to spend your money making a better life for you and your family, I have the things I need. I want to see you happy and healthy. When you ask me what I want for Mother’s Day, I say “nothing” because you’ve already been giving me my gift all year. I want you.

At first read, I sighed a little “Awww” because it’s such a sweet sentiment. Yes, this is exactly what I wish for Mother’s Day, and every day with my kids, now that four of them are grown. I will always be your mother; but now I kind of want your friendship. Except for the fact that I remember when I was your age.

Yeah, I know how that sounds and I also know that you’re rolling your eyes just a little – perhaps a lot if you are that one kid of mine.

But I do, kids. I do recall what it was like to be your age trying to figure out this adult life thing along with love and sex and relationships, balancing budgets, saving – or not saving, school, career, marriage, having babies, having more babies, and everything else that is adulting. I know that nothing filled me more with self-doubt and self-loathing as an adult than the advice that I never really asked for – and there was a lot of it – whether I asked for it or not – usually I did not ask for it.

And so, kids, I bite my tongue – A LOT.

I want to talk to you about your life, your loves, your friends, your school, your career. I definitely wonder if marriage is for you – and children. I want to know about who was that one guy on your Instagram and Snapchat. I am curious about your plans for school, your job, your career. I even want to see what your friends are sharing about you on that birthday tribute page.  I do, kids. I really do.

But I can still remember when I was your age.

Some things are private – for you – for me. As mom, I am not a fan. As a person who values the trust we have built together, you know, as friends, I do my best to respect you.

Yeah, I bite my tongue a lot.

But, my dear kids, I know that I raised up some pretty awesome people – because of, or perhaps in spite of my parenting. And that is why I am privileged to enjoy our conversations – when you ask me questions, ask my advice, tell me your problems, ask for my opinion, ask for my help. When you to come over and rant about your problems, rant about life, whatever. When you tell me about your job, your worries, your kids, your fur babies. I love when you laugh with me and, occasionally, when you laugh at me. I love when you are here, raiding my refrigerator and pantry too. Most of all, I love just hanging out with you – all of you. That time together reminds me what amazing people my children are and, yeah, I am going to take some credit for that.

I love you kids! Thank you for making me a mom. More than anything, that is the best Mother’s Day gift; all of you.

party like it’s nurses week

Actually it has been Nurses Week, all week long this week, May 6-12, with the added bonus of a waxing and waning full moon. It’s okay because I really do have the privilege to have the best job ever and with the best scrubs squad ever where we get to be the advocate of the adorable, the bundler of the babies and the healer of the helpless.

It’s the eve of Nurses’ Day, Florence Nightingale’s 197th birthday and I am going to put on my scrubs and party all night like I just drank and entire pot of coffee! Because I have and because I have so much love in the scrubs.