Notes from the campaign trail...

As you know, I have been on the campaign trail for the past two and a half years.  

For Mother of the Year.

I stand by my record of Elmo, Totinos pizza, Garanimals and full time day care/staying at home with Mommy (depending on which side of the SAHM vs. Working Mom political coin one stands).

And, yes, I have also participated in activities to boost my standing with the public.  Such as the wearing of yoga pants, experimenting with a various array of crock pot recipes and clipping an embarrassing amount of coupons, most of which served only to help burn 3 calories during the cutting process.  

Mind you, all of this has been done in the pursuit of an award presented by and from "They."

"They" are the folks warning mothers everywhere about the lifetime benefits and lasting harmful consequences of waking a sleeping baby for feedings, dishing out advice on how to and how to not discipline the toddler screaming during the weekly grocery trip (when the use of aforementioned coupons will simply take 46 seconds too long) and slinging mud all over vaccines/organics/bumpers/diapers/homeschooling.  

"They" have an agenda.  "They" are an army of know-it-alls.  And "they" have been handing out this Mother of the Year award for decades.  

My hope is I can win without saying the words "world peace."  

(Although, that would be cool.  World peace, that is.  It'd be cool.)

(It will never happen.)

(But it'd be cool nonetheless.)

This week, I stand prepared to present two new reports to "They" for review in regards to my campaign.

The first of which occurred yesterday as we, our little threesome, were returning home from the park.  Aubrey Kate had been begging to go to the park but since the Epic Stroller Fit of 2012, I had been denying that request and instead reminding her of the episode.  But yesterday, I needed her cooperation.  

I had a gift to mail to Cousin Kimberly and unfortunately, post offices and the like are only open during normal operating hours.  Which means by the time Chris gets home at 8:45 pm, they're closed.  So I needed the toddler to agree to:

A)  Get dressed

B)  Get in the car

C)  Get out of the car

D)  Not run into the street

E)  Behave while in the mailing joint

F)  Not run into the street

G)  Get back in the car

That's some serious cooperation.  

So I did what all great Mommies do...I bribed her.  

With a trip to the park.

Getting there was fun and playful.  The 40 minutes at the park were also fun and playful.  She wanted to swing.  A lot.  I wore Rhys in one of those baby backpack things.  He was pretty content.  My biggest concern was making sure her feet didn't give him a concussion while I was pushing her.  

And by the grace of God, she was amenable to going home when Rhys started getting fussy.  

We were walking away from the park when it happened.

She tripped.

I heard the trip itself and turned my head just in time to see her face plant on the side walk.

Face.  Plant.

Had she been in the stroller, there would have been no tripping.  No face plant.  No anguished crying.  

I present this horrible phone photograph as evidence.

The good news...it looks worse today.

And picture day at school is Friday.

This Mother of the Year moment will be documented for all eternity.

Awesome.

The second event happened somewhere around 2:00 am this morning.  Chris has been doing the middle of the night feeding.  I do the before the rooster crows 4/5 am feeding.  Having the alarm go off after only being asleep for 30 minutes is not fun for him.

Last night, around the 2:00 am time frame, Rhys woke up and started doing his fussing/grunting/give me food thing.  I then did my thing, which is to punch Chris in the arm to alert him.

He's a hard sleeper.

And then I SWEAR I saw him get up and leave the room to feed Rhys.  Which is my cue to turn the monitor down so I can go back to sleep.

The next time I woke up, I looked at the monitor and saw Rhys was still fussing.  Chris was back in bed so I figured he was just getting settled after his feeding.  

I repeated that several times.  Until I heard him fussing again.  That meant it was the 4/5 am feeding so I started getting up.

Chris then said, "What are you doing, babe?"

"Going to feed Rhys."

"I just fed him."

"You did?  You didn't have to get both."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you feed him already tonight?"

"No, I just woke up and heard him crying so I fed him."

"Wait.  What?  He was crying earlier and you went so I turned down the monitor."

"No, I didn't.  The monitor was turned down though.  Just glad I heard him."

"You mean he's been crying all night?  Hungry?"

"Ummm...I guess so.  He just ate 6 oz."

"Awesome."

Chris attempted to make me feel better by telling me he wasn't crying actual tears when he picked him up.  That doesn't really help.  

My SON laid in his crib crying for food.  While I turned him down.

There you have it, "They."  My latest submissions for Mother of the Year.  

If you need additional information, I will be hugging and kissing my babies.  Possibly letting them eat or play with whatever they want in effort to ease my own guilt.  

And maybe praying for World Peace.

Mother. Of. The. Year.