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Little Monkey Love

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Two Little Monkeys

Two Little Monkeys

I haven’t posted in a few days.  My muse had left me, and I had nothing to say.  Very unusual for me.  I usually can write about SOMETHING.Then something happened in church today that made me say, “Well, there’s a blog post!”

Today at church, it was just me and the Little Monkeys, AKA The Middle Monkey and The Girl Child.  Monkey #1 was not feeling well, so he stayed home.

During the musical offertory (which the choir was not doing, so I was actually sitting WITH the kids), The Girl Child left to go to the restroom and when she came back to the pew, instead of letting her slide past me, I pulled her down on to my lap and started snuggling with her.  A very difficult feat these days – one that I know I won’t be able to do much longer – she is getting soooooo tall!  Not to be outdone, The Middle Monkey scooted over and put his head against my arm.  We were a tight little bundle of bliss, just letting the beautiful piano solo wash over us.

We stayed like that for a bit, when Middle whispers, “I love you, Mommy.” (in that sweet little lispy way)  I whispered it back to him.

He whispered, “I love you,” again.  So I said it back.  That is when he said, “Oh I know, that was for her.”  Meaning his little sister.

Everyone all together now… AAAAWWWWWWEEEEEE!!!!!

Ever since they were little little, they have been the most volatile mix to have out together.  They are either FIGHTING or getting insanely silly together.  Even when they were 2 and 4!  But, I don’t think I have EVER heard them say they love each other.  Well, maybe when she was a baby and he would kiss her and say it, but not since then.  She is usually busy bossing him around and he is blaming her for everything (even this moring getting out of the car at church when he yells, “What did you do with my book?!? Oh…there it is.  I put it under the arm rest.”)  They are so free with their I Love Yous to me, but not to each other, so this was particularly heartwarming.

I whispered into the Girl’s head, “Did you hear what your brother said?”

“Yes,” she replied.  “I love you, too.”  She was so quiet I was pretty sure he didn’t hear her, so I asked her to say it again.

And she did.  Very quietly.

“What did you say?” stage-whispered Middle Monkey.

“I said I love you, too,” she said – just a bit louder this time.

And then The Middle Monkey with a little twinkle in his eye, states, “I heard you the first time.  I just wanted to hear you say it two more times.”

I nearly busted out laughing!  I literally was shaking with silent laughter.  It was such a big brother move!  He says it once – and then has her say it three times.  Priceless!  Where do they get these things?!?!

They both asked me why I was laughing.  I didn’t know how to put it.  I just told them to always remember to say I love you.  And to mean it when you say it.

By this time, the music was over, and the congregation was about to stand up, so, the Bossy Girl just said, “We have to stand up now.  Get up,” and climbed off my lap.  The moment was over.  Not sure when we will have a spontaneous moment like that again.  But, it sure was one I know I will remember for a while.

Silly Little Monkeys.

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You Know You Are a Mother When…

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Sunday night and The Three Monkeys are staying at my mother’s as I have morning duty at school tomorrow.  Once again, dinner time passes by and I find I am getting increasingly hungry, so I wander downstairs to see what there was to see.

I haven’t been to the store.  The pickings are a little slim.  I want fast and I want easy.  I spy a box of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese in the cupboard.  Hmmmm…  Fast?  Check.  Easy?  Check.  Sounds great!

But, this isn’t any ordinary box of Kraft M&C…it is Madagascar 3 Kraft Macaroni & Cheese.  But, Mommy Monkey is hungry.

You know you are a mother when, you fix yourself a box of Madagascar 3 Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.  Sans children.

Even as I am preparing it, I know I am going to catch grief from The Three Monkeys.  Particularly The Girl Child.  She picked it out.  And I have found that my children are very territorial about food stuffs in my house.  God forbid I actually eat ice cream or whatever when they aren’t here, and then they come back ONLY TO FIND IT GONE!!!!  BAAAAADDDDDD MOMMMMMY!!!!!  It does not matter that the store sells more.  I had the nerve to consume food while they were gone.  For shame!  It makes me wonder if they do the same thing to their dad.

*sigh* They are soooooo dramatic – and I have absolutely no idea where they get it from.  None whatsoever…

You also know you are a mother when, you make plans to stop at the grocery store on the way home to replace the eaten box of Madagascar 3 Kraft Macaroni & Cheese, before your children return tomorrow afternoon and discover it missing.

Silly Little Monkeys.  Smart Mommy Monkey.

Very Important Primates

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Who’s the most important person in your life — and how would your day-to-day existence be different without them?

via Daily Prompt: VIP.

Monkeys One, Two, and Three

The most important person in my life is not one person – it is three.  Three very important little persons.

The Three Monkeys.

As cliché as it may seem, my three little monkeys are the most important people in my life.  Nearly everything I do, every single day, is done with them in the back of my mind.

Without them, my life would be completely different.

It would be quieter, cleaner, calmer.  More predictable.

But it would also be less joyful, less loving, less amazing.  More boring.

There are times when I ask God why I was given the children I have.  Why my monkeys have to be so damn challenging.  Why I couldn’t have had “perfect” children.

And times when I ask myself why in the hell I chose to have three children.

But then I look at them.

And I know why.

Try to See it My Way…

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Daily Prompt: Perspective.

Write about the last disagreement you had with a friend or family member — from their perspective.

“Mom.  You just have to accept that I am their mother and while I appreciate everything you do for us, you HAVE to learn the boundaries!  You had no right to interfere!”

I cannot believe what daughter just said to me.  My child.  It doesn’t matter how old she is, or that she has children of her own, how could she say such things to me?  I am hurt beyond belief.  She and her children are all that I have up here.  I can’t abide with the thought that she might be so angry that she will distance herself and the children from me.

I do not understand why she thinks I have crossed a line.  She is so very busy.  I know she has been under a lot of stress.  I only contacted Monkey #1’s teacher about his grade because I know she doesn’t have the time to do it herself.  I could find out the answers and then help him improve his grade.  She doesn’t have the time to!  Besides, she has been feeling so down in the past few months, I don’t want to add any more to her plate.  And I didn’t tell her in advance because I didn’t want to burden her.  I was just trying to get it done.  I was just trying to help.

Monkey #1 and I have always had a close bond.  After all, he is “special.”  He is my first grandchild!  He needs guidance and protection because of his Asperger’s.  And it’s not that I don’t think she isn’t a good mother.  She IS!  But, I have so much experience dealing with the Special Ed process.  I can HELP her.

If only she’d understand.  I didn’t mean to hurt her.  I didn’t mean to interfere.  I didn’t mean to make her feel like a bad mother.

I was only trying to help.

If only she’d let me.

Oh, the Places I WON’T Go… (The Serious Version)

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Daily Prompt: No, Thanks.

Is there a place in the world you never want to visit? Where, and why not?

As I stated in yesterday’s post, “Oh the Places You’ll Go,” I can find beauty in just about any location.  However, when I do, it is finding the beauty of the LOCATION.   The buildings.  The landscape.  The flora.  Despite crumbling buildings, I can find a small detail that I find fascinating.

The same does not stay true, however, when faced with the plight of the people.

I am a very emotional person.  I FEEL so much.  When I see people who are hurting – physically or emotionally – I feel it as well.  It can move me to tears.  My heart hurts for them, and for the frustration I feel that there is nothing I can do.  Particularly for the children.  So, being faced with the people of abject poverty is a challenge for me.

Call it a first-world problem.  Call it overly empathetic.  Who knows.

For our honeymoon, The Monkey Daddy (my ex) and I drove from Atlanta to Las Vegas and back.  A wonderful two-week journey.  We had the opportunity to see much of the country – we went in an out of 17 states, even going out of our way to just pop in to the state to say we had been there (Florida and California).  One of our overnight stops was in El Paso, Texas.  We figured that since we were right there, we should cross over the border into Juárez, Mexico.  You know, see the sights, shop a little.  Yes, we were informed it is one hell of a dangerous city, but we wouldn’t stay long.  An hour.  Tops.   Afterall, we were so close and we could then add another location to our list!  So, we parked the trusty Jeep Cherokee (after being told it was best to NOT take it over the border) and walked across the bridge into Mexico.  El Paso is like any other mid-sized American city with its own urban poverty.  But, walking over the Rio Grande into Juárez was literally like walking from our first-world comforts into third world.  Not twenty yards down the road, we were approached by the first begging child.  A gorgeous little girl, about 5 years-old.  Huge black eyes, peering up at me.  Locking with mine.  Beseeching me.  I wanted to gather her up and take her home with me.  I gave her the change in my pocket and with a little “Gracias,” she scampered back to her mother who was seated on the ground in a doorway.  And we continued walking.  A block away, another child.  A boy.  Again, I wanted to take him away from that life and bring him into mine.  This time, it was my ex’s pockets that were emptied its change.  After he ran off, I took a good look around us.  Not just at the LOCATION, but at the people.  It was then that I realized I could go no further.  No little authentic Mexican tchotchke  from the old Mercado Juárez was worth the heartbreak I was feeling for the children I saw around me.  So, we turned around and walked back to the border.  Of course, we were approached again – and by the same little girl from before.  This time, I gave her some bills – and prayed that her mother was going to use it for food.

I have never forgotten that feeling.  And I never will.  It taught me my own limitations.  And it exposed me to my own first-world guilt.  Not that I am rich – I mean, I am a TEACHER after all.  But I knew that as little as I had, it was still so much more than what these children had.  And so much more than what any child in a like situation may have.   I can’t rescue all of the children of the world.  As much as I would love to try.