{"id":546,"date":"2009-03-31T17:38:00","date_gmt":"2009-03-31T21:38:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/?p=546"},"modified":"2009-03-31T17:38:00","modified_gmt":"2009-03-31T21:38:00","slug":"whooped","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/?p=546","title":{"rendered":"Whooped!"},"content":{"rendered":"

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Motherhood… usually you hear all the joys of it. The occasional sob story… and then the usual complaint about laundry, lunches and all the annoyances of life.<\/p>\n

Yesterday I wondered why I never hear of motherhood equated to a dishrag, used, wrung out and hung to dry.
. <\/p>\n

I am a mother to my children. This is all I have ever wanted was to just get it right. ( I didn’t say perfect…) I expect nothing… thanks and hugs are bonuses. Manners are demanded. Aside from that … not much else.<\/p>\n

I always thought that I would have children that confided in me. I have worked hard to build trust and lead by example.<\/p>\n

I always wondered if one of the boys had a crush on a girl (well even a boy…) they would shared their thoughts with me.
I always thought that we would do the journey of teenage years together.<\/p>\n

I was wrong. I am not even allowed in that vehicle much less invited to go on the journey.<\/p>\n

I get it. NO MOMS ALLOWED. Sanj was like this. HE was very private with his thoughts. I can’t remember actually sharing mine with my parents but I never hid it.<\/p>\n

I guess I just thought if I did it right (at least the way I think is right) I would be there with them.
Some parents get this. Obviously this is not my privilege.<\/p>\n

I hate that I can not do anything right. “Do you want me to help you with your Science project?”
“No… I got it.
At 10 p.m. I am in bed… ready to release all the stresses of the evening… I hear ” Mom, could you help me glue this?”<\/p>\n

I know… I am first the parent. But it sucks to always be wrong or offensive even when you are thinking you are not.<\/p>\n

So as I get my hugs from Josh, my “I love you” from Zach, my “Thank you, Mommy” from Max, my hug and kiss from Jordan (only at bedtime), and my “Thanks Mom, I love you” from Tyler… I am grateful for the non- moody moments that pass in the 24 hour period from my dearly loved oldest.<\/p>\n

Infliction of the hormones must suck. Yet deep down I must settle for knowing that I CAN buy a smile with a wanted spring jacket… lol. I must settle in knowing that I have spent the last 13 years loving this child\/young man as hard as I can. I have done the best I have known how. And when I have messed up, I have said the hard ‘I am sorry.”<\/p>\n

I have the hope that the infliction is a passing thing… in a few years I am told it will be replaced with the budding of a fine young man.<\/p>\n

And as each day passes… I get promises from the young ones that as THEY come to the ages of raging hormones… they WILL love their mom. They will smother me with hugs and juicy details of their hearts. Yah Right!<\/p>\n

As the mother of a teenager, I feel like a dishrag… useful to clean up messes then left wrung out and laid to dry… till the next situation arises.<\/p>\n

I am so whooped!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Motherhood… usually you hear all the joys of it. The occasional sob story… and then the usual complaint about laundry, lunches and all the annoyances of life. Yesterday I wondered why I never hear of motherhood equated to a dishrag, … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/546"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=546"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/546\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=546"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=546"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/livinglovingbreathingboys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=546"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}