I enjoyed such a laugh the other day with another mom whom I pass each morning bringing our kids to school.   We are both running just a few minutes late, on most mornings, so we always drop our children off at the front doors instead of the back doors.

The back doors are reserved for those children who get to school BEFORE the first bell rings….clearly not a door we see very often.  My kids are rarely tardy, as we seem to make it to school sometime between that first and second bell, but we struggle to beat that first bell.  I always wonder why they even have the first bell if the kids are not really late until after the second bell. I can only assume it’s for mothers like me! I also wonder why it is that we can never seem to leave the house just 5 minutes earlier each day to make it to those back doors. I guess just another mystery that will need to go unsolved for today.

Anyway, I often feel an unspoken comradery with this other mom whom I see running in the same “just 5 minutes late” circle as I travel in.  It almost makes me feel better to know that I’m not the only mother on the planet who just can’t get out the door in time each day.

So the other day when I saw her (at the school’s front doors) helping her son out of the car with a rather large box….she was wearing cropped pants, hunting socks, and clogs….I just smiled to myself and realized that the morning “outfit” is just another thing we seem to have in common. As I have mentioned before, I adore my sleep and I’m also a night owl….so early mornings and I do not see eye to eye. I wake up just in time to get my children up, ready, fed, and out the door leaving no time for me to primp and prime myself for the day. I usually drive them to school in my PJ’s (sweat pants and a t-shirt); my hair pulled back in a ponytail or a baseball hat, and some sort of footwear….typically whatever slippers are sitting by the back door. I take care of getting ready for the day once I arrive back home and they are dropped off at school. So, seeing my friend out of her car….dressed as I do each morning….I couldn’t help but laugh and empathize with her situation.

You see, when you drive your children to school in such disarray each morning, the most dreaded thing you can hear out of your child’s mouth in that moment when you pull up to the school doors is, “Mom, aren’t you going to help me carry in my Science project?”..….or book project….or any kind of project that requires you to exit the car and expose your attire to the rest of the world. In those moments, you want to shoot yourself for not getting up early enough to at least throw on a bra or put on a pair of real pants. You want to lovingly strangle your child for not mentioning to you before you left the house that he or she would need help into the school with the project. And you also vow to never leave the house again without being completely ready for the day…which lasts for about a week.

You basically just want to sink deeper into your seat and pretend as though you did not hear the pleas from the back of the car. But thanks to the persistence of your child:

you make your way out of the car

fly around to the other side of the vehicle

grab the damn poster

start praying out loud to God that nobody pulls up while you dash the 15 feet into the school

you drop the poster inside the front doors

and then make a mad dash back to your car.

And I believe it was at some point during the audible prayer to God that I wheeled up and caught my dear friend standing by her vehicle, holding the box for her son, and eagerly encouraging him to hustle up out of the back seat so they could run for cover.

I just smiled and waved at her….fully knowing how she was feeling at that moment, and then didn’t think twice about it until I received a message from her later that day via FaceBook. She mentioned to me that she wasn’t trying to start a new trend in the fashion industry with her cropped pants and husband’s hunting socks….that she was just taken by surprise when her son asked for her help in carrying in his project. I laughed so hard when I read that message because so many of us moms…especially stay-at-home moms…have been where she stood that morning!

I tried to negate her worries by sharing a similar story of my own because just the day prior to that event, I had lost track of time and realized I was going to be late picking the kids up from school. In my haste, I threw on my husband’s pair of size ELEVEN slippers and darted out the door. Unfortunately, I had forgotten about the several errands that I had to run immediately after picking the kids up that day. So there I was…darting in and out of 2 grocery stores, 1 gas station, and the local Chamber of Commerce office in my husband’s SLIPPERS! And the worse part for me was that it was 3:30pm in the afternoon….I had all day to get myself ready and still managed to run out the door only prepared to be seen from the waist up!

So, to my favorite “front door” mom….I thank you sincerely for brightening my day with such a blog worthy story.

And rest assured that many of us are right there with you each morning…..presentable from the waist up and running just 5 minutes late!

Today I would like to write about my oldest son, Bailey.  We celebrated his 12th birthday just a couple of weeks ago and I have yet to take the time to pay homage to his birth.  Therefore, without further ado…I want to take a moment to reminisce about his birthday and the young man he is becoming.

My first child, Kylie, came into this world kicking and screaming after TWENTY hours of labor and an hour and half of pushing. So when the doctor told me that she was going to induce me with Bailey, I went into sheer panic mode.

I will never forget the night before his birth. I was sitting in the glider rocker placed in a corner of our small apartment living room, and I was sobbing. I don’t think up to that point, I had ever felt more scared of anything in my life. For me, the transition from having no children to one child was not nearly as difficult as the transition from one child to two. I was about to be outnumbered and I was terrified that I would not be able to handle it. There is only 17 months between my oldest two children so I really couldn’t wrap my brain around how I was going to manage a toddler and a newborn at the same time. I mean, what was going to happen when I need to go to the bathroom and they were both in need of my care????!!!! Seriously, these were the kinds of things I was fretting about while I rocked and cried hysterically all night in that chair. Looking back, I can laugh at my silly fears, but at the time…they were very real…and truly terrifying.

There was also the fear of labor and delivery that loomed in my heart that night. Being induced comes with the convenience of being completely “prepared” for the arrival of your new baby, but it also comes with the pesky knowledge that you are indeed going to push a child the size of a large watermelon out of a very small part of your body….and that moment will begin precisely at 6am tomorrow morning!

For me, ignorance is bliss! With my first pregnancy, I was induced as well, but I had no idea what I was in for. But this time around….no….this time I knew just how ugly labor and delivery could be, and I was paralyzed with fear over knowing how intense and painful the next day was going to be for me! So I sat rocking and crying and praying that God would just find a way to keep this child inside me indefinitely…or at least until Kylie was 10 years old when I wasn’t going to feel so outnumbered ( or so I thought).

But fortunately, God knew better than I did, and I was induced the next day. And I cannot even put into words what a different experience his birth was compared to my first go ‘round with labor and delivery. My labor went from 20 hours to 11 hours. My pushing went from an hour and a half to 15 minutes! My epidural was administered after 8 hours of labor with Bailey instead of 12 hours with Kylie. I specifically remember hearing the nurse say, “Look at you…you are so happy and smiling like you are not even in labor.”

She was right. I was smiling because what I did not know going into my son’s birth was that each labor and delivery is very unique even if that child is coming out of the same body. So just because my daughter needed to make her entrance into the world kicking and screaming….my son didn’t feel any need to put up a fight. He joined us at 7:54pm weighing in at 7lbs 13 oz and 21 inches long (my largest baby to date)!

So as I reflect on his birth, I see clearly that my baby boy is no longer such a baby. He is nearly a teenager and adds so much joy to our lives. It’s amazing to watch him slowly developing into a man, but what really moves me is how many personality traits he has possessed since day one showing me that in Bailey’s case…nature vs. nurture has done a fine job all on its own.

He always had a love for sports. From the moment he could grasp something in his tiny little hands, he wanted to hold onto a ball. From the moment he was steady enough to stand on his own two feet, he was dunking his basketball into a Little Tykes hoop. From the moment he could run, he was racing everyone and anyone down the street and back.

He has always had a love for all things sports related; he has always been as quick as lighting; he has always been the epitome of perpetual motion. Bailey has always been the child that after an entire weekend in a gym, playing several games of basketball asks, “What’s next, mom?” Just one more thing I have come to know, expect, and love about my son. Because as exhausting as his constant energy can be, it also comes with a zest for life that can only be seen through Bailey’s eyes.

Without exaggeration, he always has a smile on his face, a song in his heart, and a compassion for others that is to be admired and mimicked. I remember several times when he was young seeing other children using Bailey or treating him like a doormat. He would never understand my concern over these types of so-called “friends”. I would try and explain to him how he shouldn’t let people treat him poorly or let other kids walk all over him, and he would just look at me and say, “But he’s my friend”. My fear was that his tender heart and innocent way of looking at the world would hurt him in so many ways. And while I’m sure Bailey will have his share of heartbreak due to his trusting and loving nature, he has taught me that going through life on the defense is no way to live either.

So I have let go. I have let Bailey love the world and all that it has to offer him with reckless abandon. I have stepped back and stopped trying to change his outlook. I no longer want him to look at life through suspicious eyes, but rather love unconditionally as he does. Watching him love so willingly has taught me more about the way God wants us to live than I could ever teach him about life.

So with tears in my eyes and a love I have no words for…I would like to wish my son a very Happy Birthday! Bailey, you will forever make me proud to your mama!