Five people is a lot of people to coordinate.

Maverick, my oldest child, is by far my most challenging. He’s infuriating. Demanding. Intensely curious. Persistent. All of those qualities rolled into one means he keeps us very busy. Some of his personality traits don’t mesh well with my personality traits, and I have been humbled over and over and OVER again since I started this journey called motherhood. 

He’s a good kid, and I’m a good mom, but together … sometimes, we suck. And that’s okay. We just pick up and press on. As much as I struggle sometimes with how to best parent him, I know that with the right guidance he is going to be freaking amazing. I watch him march onto playgrounds and tell the other kids with brazen confidence “Hi! I’m Maverick. I’m the leader, and you can be my sidekicks. This is my little brother Asher – don’t be mean to him.” 

Then he proceeds to lay out exactly what game they’re going to play, and the kids follow him. They do what he says. He’s got that thing, whatever it is, that intangible air that lets people know he’s worth listening to. And if you don’t, well … he’s going to make you.

Today I looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time in awhile and I just wanted to cry. From exhaustion, from relief that we made it this far, from pride. My boy who used to follow me around and absolutely refused to do anything by himself and drove me up the WALL can now quietly play alone for hours at a time. He doesn’t want to be cuddled as much. 

The growth is so gradual that I will go weeks without noticing, and then all of the sudden I realize he’s bigger than the last time I really looked at him closely.

Me: Maverick, you’re a BLAST!

Maverick: I know.

I’m working on securing a gig as a contributing writer for a new website in Baton Rouge and I’m super excited about it. Once everything is finalized I will share it with you. As part of this process, I was asked to submit a headshot and a short bio.

Here’s the thing. I went to the site and read the bios of the three founders of the site and they are all amazing women. They’re not only mothers, but also accomplished people. As if simply being a mother isn’t a big enough accomplishment, right? I kind of think it’s fine to stop there, at motherhood. No need to continue trying to accomplish anything of real value, you’ve gone and done it — you’ve created and sustained life. Go ahead and check out for the rest of your life, Momma. Your life’s work is complete.

Today, my big accomplishment was trekking to Sam’s Club with two small children and buying $161 worth of bulk items, with a drooling baby strapped to my chest and a snot-nosed toddler in the shopping cart. I then loaded all of those bulk items one by one — because Sam’s Club does not believe in grocery bags — into the back of my van. I wiped noses and changed diapers and unloaded those same bulk items one by one into my house. 

After reading about these other women, I feel inspired to eventually accomplish more than just creating and sustaining life and buying in bulk. Although … if I stopped now and just walked away from accomplishing anything but the bare minimum to maintain survival, I would still be pretty proud of myself. My real accomplishments to date aren’t measurable. It’s just a bunch of little things that will hopefully, eventually, add up to something big. 

Our children are trying to beat us down. We won’t allow it.

Today is our 8-year wedding anniversary, and Husband has scored MAJOR POINTS by surprising me with childcare arrangements and dinner reservations. Whoa. The only thing that could make this better is if I could spend the entire day in a hotel room by myself staring at nothing in total silence, but it’ll do.

In 8 years we have gone from this …

To this.

I wouldn’t want to walk through life with anyone else. We have our problems. We have issues, baggage, struggles. We aren’t even sure if we agree on whether or not there is a God, and if if there is one, what He is like.

But.

I believe in God, and He gave me Robbie Hobbs. Today I know I am blessed, abundantly and undeservedly. I’m one incredibly lucky woman. And he is a lucky man.

Today I accomplished something great and I did not die: I took all three of my children for a checkup. Thankfully my mother-in-law was available to come with me, otherwise … no.

I am one of those people who don’t really “get” hashtags. I don’t have a Twitter account because, like Pinterest, I find the whole thing overwhelming. I can only handle a few things at once, like Facebook, e-mail, and this blog. If it weren’t for Facebook, I would have no idea how to even use a hashtag properly.

Anyway, lately I’ve noticed one hashtag in particular because it CRACKS me up. Gets me every time. #sorrynotsorry. Usually it’s used when someone posts something over the top that’s like, whoa. Or, yikes. But they follow it up with #sorrynotsorry, and that makes me #LOL. 

I found these turkey hats at Target today for $3 each, and there were only two left. I would have bought as many as they had, so my entire family could wear them on Thanksgiving. Right now Grandma and Grandpa and all my aunts and uncles are exhaling a sigh of relief – WHEW. That was a close one … I’d hate to be the stick in the mud who refused to wear a turkey hat. Good thing I don’t have to.

Well, don’t get too comfortable. #iwillfindmorehats

Just when I think I’ve grown accustomed to Husband’s weird and quirky ways, he goes and does something new that I haven’t seen before. 

Last night I was sitting in our bedroom talking to him about our anniversary — which is next week — and as I talked, I watched him pull the lint from his belly button and carefully drop it into my gym bag. Then he turned around and continued talking to me as if nothing had happened.

Things like this remind me of just how vast our differences are. I asked him “Why did you just do that?” And he said “Do what?”  

“Dude. You just put your belly button lint in my gym bag.” 

“Oh … THAT. I just wanted you to think of me the next time you go work out.”

Asher dropped a sippy cup behind our headboard last weekend, which totally freaked me out because I don’t allow sippy cups to be dropped behind beds. Ever. And if it happens, I scramble to retrieve it. I am one of those people who can’t deal with the thought of liquid somewhere that it should not be. That is what mold is made of, and I can’t have mold in my house. 

So I shrieked for him to GET IT OUT FROM UNDER THERE! and he said he will … eventually. I guarantee you, he hasn’t thought of it since. Meanwhile, I have thought of it every day since it happened, imagining what’s growing in that cup in the dark under our bed. Well, I know what’s growing in there. Mold, that’s what.

Here is my favorite picture from when Penelope was born.

I took this when I was in labor.

We are an example of how opposites not only attract, but can make it work on a daily basis for 8 years of marriage. We couldn’t have more different backgrounds and personalities, but we each think the other person is charming and interesting so …

So far, so good.

Pepper has been teething for 7 days straight, my hair is coming out in clumps, Asher is sick, and I’m deep in the trenches of motherhood. 

Writing about it would help me, but I don’t have time for that right now … so I do things like this instead.

One day, I will write a book and it will be full of Maverick-isms and pictures of Asher looking unimpressed.

No one will buy it but my immediate family.