Please study the picture below. An analysis to follow. Yes, I know it's a bad picture; my photographer was a 9 year old anxious to play on the park playground. Sorry.
This post is for Jill T. and her friend, who I know lurk here from time to time and I think they have the wrong impression of me. Soooo, in the spirit of full disclosure I will explain what is going on in my life at the time that the above picture was taken.
I had Mackenzie snap this picture because it is not an uncommon scene in my life. Let me point out some details:
1. I am carrying Briggs on my left arm. That is where I always carry him to leave my more adept right hand available to answer my phone, grab one of his siblings who enjoy darting in front of cars in parking lots, and/or to get into my car. The muscles in my left arm are much stronger than the ones in my right because Mr. Briggs is getting rather large.
2. I am also holding Brevin's Spiderman backpack because he asked me to hold it (with my spare hand) while he went to play on the playground. While he practices soccer, the other kids play, so being the nice mom I decide he can have some time, too. I forget that that means he'll ditch all his gear in order to get in an extra slide down the slide.
3. On my left shoulder is a camp chair so I had a place to sit while watching aforementioned soccer practice. However, it's a kids camp chair (which is incredibly sturdy), but I spent practice feeling like the giant Alice in Wonderland sitting on someone else's baby furniture. Nothing says wide thighs and big mom butt like a camp chair with an 8" wide seat.
4. In my right hand is the box that is carrying out our dinner leftovers, water bottles and snack trash. That's because Tuesday nights are eat-out nights. As soon as the girls get home from soccer we have violin drop off, dance drop off, violin pick up, dance pick up, dinner take-out (yummy Port of Subs), and then soccer practice. None of that is so bad as knowing I have to bathe the kids by myself when we get home (which, probably is why I let the kids play longer . . . the Brevin bit is kinda bologna . . . I'm just procrastinating) and finish the homework that didn't get done in the car going from here to there.
5. On my right shoulder is my trusty diaper bag. Isn't it swanky? Yeah, it's a big black hole. I yearn for the day of small purses with only my wallet and cell phone. Instead I schlep the bag around with: the family calendar, pencils and pens, lipstick, diapers & wipes, an extra pair of shorts for Brock (just in case), an extra onesie for Briggs (just in case), gum, checkbook, two wallets (one with my grocery cards, frequent shopper punch cards and my debit card and another with all the other cards that mom's carry - insurance, library, appointment, etc.), a toothbrush, random legos, some fruit snack packages, and all other sorts of other knick knacks.
6. If you can't tell, I'm sure my legs weren't shaved that day, I have make-up on from the day before, and I'm guessing I was feeling a little sweaty after making it across the field with all my adornments . . . what I wouldn't kill for a quiet, uninterrupted bath!
7. And if you look close enough, yes, my boobs are totally crooked. I'm sure, 9 times out of 10, when walking around I look like a mess since nursing has completely wrecked my proportions in the chest area. I swear I could make a ba-dillion dollars creating a nursing bra that supports and compensates for the discrepancies that come after there's only time to nurse on one side and not the other.
So, yes, my life with five little kids is crazy and hectic and stressful. I'm blessed, I know that much, to be a mom. Every day (especially on Tuesdays) when we all survive it, I feel very accomplished. And aren't I JUST a picture of loveliness?