This post ran on Turkey Day last year, but rest assured, Thanksgiving never passes without me reliving this moment.

My mother slid the cornbread dressing into the oven as my sister and I chopped vegetables and stirred pots. The turkey was almost done and we could hear the sounds of football and male conversation drifting in from the den as my Granddaddy, brother, husband and uncle attempted to stay out of the way. My petite and very proper, Southern Baptist grandmother was wearing her Sunday best and chatting with us as we prepared our Thanksgiving feast.

I took a moment to pause, mentally, and appreciate the beauty of what we were sharing. Three generations of women, gathered around the stove and giving thanks for all the blessings we enjoyed. I became a little teary as I realized my grandparents were getting older and one day, this crystal clear moment would fade to a hazy memory.

The channel changed in the next room and now instead of hearing Sports Center, we began overhearing Fox News reporters discussing President Bill Clinton’s recently discovered indiscretion.

“Mmm, it’s just shameful,” Momma said as she stirred the gravy.

My sister and I nodded in agreement as my grandmother said in her very Southern drawl, “I cain’t believe he had oral sehx in the Oval Office. What is this world coming to?”

I lost consciousness after that, but awoke certain that this particular Thanksgiving would never fade into the recesses of my mind. And for that, I am thankful.

Got any hilarious holiday memories of your own??

My children have had enough Halloween candy already. ENOUGH. This day, this week… they are on my nerves.

Sadie bit another child at preschool unprovoked. Or I should say, she bit the same little boy for the fifth time in about as many weeks. They STILL haven’t kicked her out of school, so we just went ahead and dropped out. I can’t keep sending my kid up there to beat the crap out of other kids and I can’t control what she does when she’s not with me… so what else can I do?

Sadie literally stood in between my legs while I attempted to make lunch today and only left long enough to bite her sister. I was a little excited for a chance to discipline her for biting and since Time Out is her very favorite place to go, I dabbed a little Tabasco on her tongue.

Sadie: WAHHHH!
Me: Do you like that? Do you want some more?
Sadie: *stops crying* Yeah.
Me: *starts crying*

In the meantime, Emma has bitten into a glow stick from last night’s carnival. When I started helping her rinse her mouth, Sadie took the opportunity to grab a fistful of coffee grounds. Guess she was coming down from her high fructose corn syrup buzz and needed a little caffeine to help push her through until nap time.

Seriously? Make it stop.

My house is disgusting. There is stuff everywhere. Bandaid wrappers, little pieces of food, toys, clothes…stuff everywhere.

I am so frustrated. I’ve spent most of time this week cleaning. Cleaning! I have done laundry every day and cleaned up the laundry room just to wake up the next morning and find that all my hard work isn’t even noticeable.

I have cleaned my kitchen until it sparkles every day, to wake up the following day to sticky counter tops and gritty floors.

It’s starting to wear on my nerves. I’m on the fence between conceding defeat, quitting cleaning all together, and waiting about a year to call “Clean House” or “Hoarders” and locking every member of my family outside with one change of clothes. I wonder if seeing my house clean would be as satisfying if I was looking in with my nose pressed against the window?

What do you do to keep from losing your sanity while trying to clean while your kids destroy your house at the same time?

I haven’t blogged in a few days and I wanted to tell you why. I have been flat on my back with a headache and running a fever, I was recovering from my gallbladder surgery just fine, when all of a sudden I’m sick again. And well, I’m sick of being sick. My husband is sick of me being sick.

I’ve been in the bed for about 48 hours straight starting about the time my mother left. Like I said, I had been feeling fine, not 100% but I was gradually getting better. On Friday afternoon, my mother helped me get all the girls down for naps then headed home. God bless her, she’s been here for almost a month taking care of me and my kids.

When she left my house was silent and I ran to get in the bed to catch a nap. I thought we would all sleep until about 4pm and I’d just have to make it an hour until Zeb came home from work. My mothers tail lights had barely faded into the distance when Sadie began screaming for me. I wobbled into her room, to find her diaperless and the foot of her bed soaking wet with urine.

You want to know what I did? I didn’t laugh, slap my knee and say, “Aw shucks! I can’t wait to blog about this!” I cussed then cried like a baby. I called my husband at work. It was lunchtime, so he came home and called a babysitter to watch Sadie while I slept.

WHY am I telling you this? This blog is supposed to be a HAPPY place, no? You are supposed to come here to feel better about yourself and realize you aren’t the worst mother in the world- wait, THAT is exactly why I’m telling you this.

Not for pity, not for “Bless your hearts”, not for pats on the back. Because I want you to know that it’s hard for me too. It’s hard to always find the silver lining. It’s hard to get up everyday and regardless how you feel, to choose to be happy. It’s hard to be a mother. It is rewarding above and beyond anything I’ve experienced in my life- but that doesn’t mean it’s always easy.

If all I ever shared with you were the good times, I wouldn’t be a real person. It’s easy to be happy when everything is going well. I want you to know that my life isn’t all popsicles, pool parties and lemonade stands.

As mothers, especially as Christian mothers, we have to focus on the things that bring joy to our families and to others. That is who I want to be in my family, and to you.

WARNING! THIS POST IS NOT FOR THE EASILY OFFENDED. IF YOU ARE NOT AN ADULT OR HAVE PROBLEMS WITH HUMAN ANATOMY…KEEP ON MOVIN’!

Today I went to eat lunch with The Hubs, which is a big deal because I haven’t really left the house in about a week, since I’ve been recovering from skurgery.

The topic of vasectomies came up at lunch and hubs related a few tales of friends who had gone under the knife and seen their entire lives flash before their eyes as they lay on the exam table. Then my dearly beloved actually said, out of his sweet little mouth, “Did you know you have to ice your *biznass* (word changed for those you with more delicate palettes) for SIX HOURS after surgery? CAN YOU EVEN IMAGINE?”

I actually choked on my indignation. I said, maybe a little too loudly, judging by the stares I received from neighboring tables,” Can I imagine?? Are you serious? I pushed THREE BABIES OUT OF MY VAGINA!! CAN I IMAGINE??? Did you really just say that to me? AND after I pushed those babies out, they handed them to me and said, ‘Here STICK YOUR NIPPLE IN HER MOUTH UNTIL YOU CAN NO LONGER STAND THE PAIN!’ Can I imagine??? Uh, YEAH! I think I have a little bit of an idea of what that might feel like. FOR. THE. LOVE. You people don’t deserve anesthesia.”

I’ve been sleeping a lot as I recover from surgery, and somewhere in the fogginess of the last week, I woke up and realized that I am now the proud owner of not one but TWO pets.

Our next door neighbors moved and their cat refused to go with them. Their boy cat, named Jevin, who Aubrey refuses to call anything but Samantha, is now our trans-gender cat.

What’s the perfect pet for a family with an obstinate gender-confused cat? A baby bird. My mother, Shuggie, has spent hours trying to find a place to hide the baby bird that Jevin/Samantha cannot reach.

Currently the nameless bird is on a ledge in the carport in an intricately designed lean-to made from shoebox lids, to protect it from the gender bending cat.

When I went to sleep we were petless. And I liked it that way.

Who’s in charge here?