I’m so excited about my newest post for Motherly, because, FOR REALZZZ.

Mornings before kids:

1. Get self ready.

2. Get self in car.

3. Go.

Mornings now:

1. Wake up children.

2. Go to the kitchen to start breakfast.

3. Hear no noise from children.

4. Holler at children every 30 seconds.

5. All appear, except one. Your future seems bright, you keep hollering.

6. You hear last child thrashing and grunting violently. This is the worst moment of his life.

7. Child finally emerges. It is unclear if he is human or zombie.

8. Child sits on couch.

9. Child becomes one with the couch.

10. You call frantically to them while making eggs: “Shoes!” “Hair!” “Clothes!”

11. Child stares into space.

Read more at Motherly…

It is the beginning of our much anticipated summer together. I have reviewed last years happenings and I have decided to resign from several positions. The positions are as follows: Toilet-Flusher, Sock-Finder, Snack-Maker, and someone to explain (every.single.night.) why the sun is still up at bedtime. Please submit your applications accordingly.

Also, from now on, when I hear bickering I will hide under my bed and listen to Flo Rida until it is over.

So far, you have been surpassing my expectations at being kids. You are excellent at lemonade drinking and ice-cream eating and have the expected heart-attack like reactions to things like cleaning rooms and eating foreign vegetables. You each contain the energy of 17 adults, and can jump on the trampoline with a vigor that makes me have to use the restroom just from watching.

So far, I am very impressed. Good job being kids.

Since we will have 65 more days together, I thought that I would take this time to give you your child-evaluations.

Position: Oldest Child

You excel at being a son. In fact, next Tuesday I’m going to let you take over my position while I follow you around asking what we are doing today and if I can use the kindle.

Something to work on:

Pestering me about things like “being on time”. You can’t rush this. Also, there’s a certain three year old who’s currently in the shoe closet throwing a tantrum about a bandaid…you should probably go talk to her about time. That will be very productive for both of you.

Meanwhile, I’m going to go pour myself a big gulp of coffee and put on pants. Pretty sure I’m going to need both of those.

Position: Middle Child

You are so cool. Cool as ice. You are all relaxed with your inside out Hawaiian shirt. I’m not even sure how you did that with all those buttons, but I feel very optimistic about your future in engineering.

Something to work on:

Bringing your shoes to all places. YES you do need shoes. ALWAYS. Remember those times when we got to the grocery store and you said, “No-one told me I needed shoes”? Well, I’m going to go ahead and hand off that torch to you. I will no longer be informing you whether you need shoes, pants, or arms for where we are going.

Bring all those things. Every. Time. Capiche?

Position: Oldest Girl

You are good at dancing and singing. I didn’t really know that musicals could be real until I met you. You are also extremely good at art, next time please refrain from hanging  it on the walls with stick glue.

Thing to work on:

Sitting still. Is your spirit animal a hummingbird? Are you worried the zombies are coming? I just want to remember what your face looks like when you are not moving.

Position: Youngest 

Your cuteness is definitely working for you.

Otherwise, due to excessive tantrums and not really being a team-player, we would probably have to send you to toddler summer camp.

Things to work on:

Communication.

You know when you were sobbing that you wanted to go swimming, and I was all, “We are going swimming.” And you kept crying?

What was that?

Also, you are cutoff from the bandaids.

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I’d like to take this time to again thank you for being children of the Johnston household. Feel free to send any mom-complaints you have to Santa Claus, maybe he can come .

Yours forever and forever,

Mama

XOXO

Friends, fellow Summertime-Warriors, follow me here at Wonderoak, on Facebook and Wonderoakblog on Instagram!!

That’s why I’m ordering a triple espresso, and a quarter of my right leg is shaved, my friend.

I really don’t mind, they are well-meaning and I like talking to adult people whenever possible. Unless, you know, the kids are having a collective meltdown. Then I might try and wilt said adults with fire from my eyeballs. (Sorry about that.)

Besides the slightly terrified observations I’ve heard, I’ve also had many twenty-somethings share their dream of the day they can Freaky Friday into my world. I’m flattered because I like my life.

I have often wondered though, what exactly are they picturing?

So I have put together a list of things I think they imagine…

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I spend endless time Facebooking, working on an Etsy shop and watching my favorite shows. 

When you say “time”, if you mean hiding in the bathroom while someone bangs on the door and yells my name 45 times in a row, then Girlfriend…grab your slippers and your Nicholas Sparks and prepare to chillax.

The Facebook thing is a little true. But do you know why? Because Facebook requires zero amount of brain power. And in case you were wondering, that’s exactly how much brain I have left.

Having girls is going to be like playing dress up every day. 

I had four years with just boys, and I’m not going to lie, I thought this. When I was pregnant with my first female, I spent time pinning braid-blogs and reading things like “2700 NEW hair styles to try with your toddler”.

Then my girls grew hair.

And now they wake up each morning with gorgeous knot sculptures. It’s like the Rubiks Cube of hair brushing. Turns out I should create my own pin called “747 ways to make your kid cry while attempting to calm the beast”.

As far as being a child-stylist, my adorable and creative daughter usually comes out looking like this…

Love her.

I know what I’m doing. 

Nope. Just when I think I’ve got these people nailed down, they go ahead and grow. It’s cray cray up in here.

I’m never overwhelmed.

If I’m out and about I probably have a triple Americano or a glass of wine in my hand. Lets be honest…that’s my best look.

There are definitely hilariously awesome moments, rocking out with my kids to Megan Trainor and Macklemore, but, let me be the first to tell you, I get overwhelmed. Anxiety and worry are knocking at my door all the time. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose.

What is that quote? “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.”(Meg Cabot)

For me that is motherhood. It’s showing up in spite of my fear that I will fail or that something beyond my control will go wrong. It’s choosing love and knowing that in the end love conquers every fear.

I don’t ever have to wear real clothes.

This may or may not be true. My at-home/shopping/everywhere uniform is often an “adorable” combination of ‘stretchy’ on ‘stretchy’. However, when I do arrive at a “jean-day”, I feel unexpectedly angry. Denim is a real shock to the system after spandex.

I always look like this. 

I have a certain “look” if I’ve made it all the way into town (15 minutes away). That look is called dressed. And (usually) there’s some makeup involved. Not only do I not always look like this, but I also had to forgo cleaning up the egg smeared into the table in order to put on mascara.

I once heard someone joke about being a “stay at home model”. Yes, a model for seven-year-old sweat pants and dark under-eye circles.

Having kids is like babysitting. 

First of all, if you’re babysitting my kids, both my sons are in love with you and both my girls think you’re going to give them ice cream. So…there’s that.

Then there is the constant-constant. These people have me on 24 hr. room service. Plus, I don’t remember the dishes screaming at me when I babysat. The dishes, the crumbs, the clutter – is like a fog horn in the background of a really great song. So rude.

The kids though. Being there for all the cute (as well as all the not-cute), there’s nothing like it.

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So, to the ones that want my life. I’m honored, I think you’ll probably love it (I do).

There ARE the moments you daydream about, snuggling and baking cookies…

Just know that when you snuggle, there will probably be a very full and pungent diaper making your eyes water..and when you bake, flour will cover every surface of your house as well as the inside of your bra.

To keep updated on new posts you can either follow me on wordpress, or like my page on Facebook, WONDEROAK Blog!

**

P.S. I have had some readers recently wonder if I think the SAHM Mom is harder working or superior to the working mom. My answer is NEVER, nor do I believe for a second it’s the “higher way”. The only reason I write from that perspective is because, currently, it’s what I’m living.

I salute my working mom friends – mommin’ aint easy – you are amazing!

Love you all, keep on – keepin’ on!

Whenever I don’t have a pile of laundry, I do teach them French and help them draw Rembrandt replicas with crayons. That hasn’t happened yet, but I’m projecting by the time they’re in their 30’s I’ll have reached the bottom of the basket. Pretty excited to get started.

I have gone kid-deaf. If my husband and I go anywhere together and he’s driving, I’m going to use that time to jam to tunes and pluck my eyebrows. Obviously. But, after a while I can feel his raised eyebrows boring into my soul. It really messes with a girl’s mojo. Finally the hints become far too unsubtle to ignore. “What?”

“THE KIDS.” Says husband.

“What?” I ask again.

“I’m DRIVING, can you DO SOMETHING?”

It is only then that I notice the screaming in the back seat. It has something to do with a receipt they found on the floor and who should be the proud owner of such a treasure. I try to explain that my ability to “tune-out” is a learned skill, but he doesn’t want to be my student.

There is only one reason I’m wearing a parka at school pick-up in the Spring. It wasn’t a bra day, it just wasn’t.

I have friends who don’t drink coffee. I literally cannot comprehend this lifestyle. My parenting strategy is to try not talking until I’m caffeinated.  I once was told that an apple gives you more energy than a cup of coffee. Hmmm. First of all, an apple only gives me enough energy to eat two toasted cheese bagels. Secondly, I tried it, and if apple energy makes your body feel like lead, and your mind feel like applesauce, then I had it.

Also, I’m contemplating getting a tattoo across my chest that says, “Coffee is my life.”

If I get dressed and put on makeup I’m going to go somewhere. Even if it’s the post office or the hardware store, I need witnesses. I got dressed and wore clothes today. You’re welcome. Also, next time you see a mom who is clothed and makeup-ed, take a moment to appreciate it. Maybe offer to take her picture and post it on Instagram #hottie. She meant to get out of the house at 9am and it’s 3:45. She needs the affirmation.

Kid food is the best. There is one reason I stoop to the level of chicken nuggets “for the kids”. That one reason is so I can accidentally eat fifteen of them. Why are the SO GOOD?? Okay, so I don’t buy all these things all the time (don’t judge), but let’s be real. HOW epic is macaroni and cheese? Enough said.

It is real. I have lost my mind to mom-brain. My friend forgot her name one time when she went to sign a receipt. It takes me ten minutes to remember my kids’ birth years and it involves a lot of counting. When people ask what I’ve been up to, I stare at them blankly until they’re uncomfortable. I’m not trying to hypnotize them…I’m trying to recall my week, and yeah, I got nothin’.

Socks are my nemesis. Where are they? It doesn’t matter how many I buy. And I’m long past “matching”.  Mismatched socks is like a thing in our house, but when I’m bargaining with my eight year old boy to “just see” if his four year old sister’s socks will fit…things have gotten desperate. Hi, I’d like a subscription to a 100 new pairs of socks per month. One size fits all for ages 2-30. Thank you.

Time-outs are for me. Obviously. I would think this would be a given, but you never know. Time outs are for me to sneak chocolate and watching a couple YouTube videos with adult language. Also, bonus, they come out with better attitudes and so do I.

I am that mom. When a group of kids is walking down the center of the road, it’s no longer adequate to wait until they notice me and slowly maneuver around them. This calls for a pull-over discussion about the best ways to stay alive. When there are some supervision-less children dropping the F-bomb and  twenty pound rocks off the dock near other kids heads? No problem. A mom-lecture is needed and I can deliver. It’s like a new specialty of mine.

I like my job. Dear Stranger who is so thankful to not live my life, you seem to think I got coerced into spending my time with small children. It may shock you to know that my husband doesn’t lock me in my house each day. I hang out with these little people on purpose. I might not always be a stay at home mom, but for now, I CHOSE this.

They are “busy”, but they’re also precious and hilarious. Exhausted as I may be…I’m exhausted in a pretty wonderful way.

What confession can you relate to the most?…or share one of your own!

To keep updated on new posts you can either follow me on wordpress, or like my page on Facebook, WONDEROAK Blog!

**Some of you have asked where I got the awesome T, I bought it here: jumpingjackjack  on Etsy.