Show Momma Some Love

Sitting quietly in the Jeep, waiting for the boys to finish sportball. It’s quiet. ❤️But not for long. As I sit here, anxiety is creeping in. I’m bracing myself for Summer. My boys are 15 months apart. Should be a good thing with that built-in playmate thing and all but the chaos never stops. They’re animals. Adorable, wild-ass, punk animals. Always touching, hitting, wrestling, yelling, tattling, pooping, running, jumping, and getting into shit. ALWAYS. Summer…no school, no sports, no breaks, no medication. Light a candle for us. But this also makes me think. My mom raised two boys, pretty close in age. And so did my mother-in-law. And none of them are in prison, so I have high hopes. I’d even say they’re all pretty damn successful. BUT I know that they were a-holes just like my boys, at one time. Making even the coolest of heads wanna explode and the steadiest of hanging hands want to wrap around their precious boys’ necks. Don’t lie, Mom. I adore these women. They’re THE best example for me when I’m struggling and can’t even yell anymore. I think about what they’d do. I might not do it, because I’m positive my boys are the worst on the planet, ever, but I do at least give how they might handle it, some consideration. Y’all, next Sunday is Mother’s Day. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SACRED, send your mom a card, flowers, a convertible. At least freaking call her and tell her how much you appreciate her. This shit ain’t easy and she got you this far. She could have hurt your punk ass and blamed it on the dog.