Socks- Moments in my Housewife Life

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He sat in front of me with defiance in his eyes. Our eyes did not move away from each other, watching closely, intensely, waiting for a reaction from the other. As if we were in a boxing ring, anticipating who would make the first move so that the opponent knew how to cleverly fight back. With growing impatience, I broke the silence.

“Let mommy put your socks on.” He didn’t flinch. Not yet.

I believe that in these moments, children have an advantage of being ignorant to time. I know there is a clock and our lives pretty much revolve around that.  In these moments I also wonder what career route he will end up making. What job would suit these characteristics of his?

“Give me your feet without kicking, and let mommy put your socks on please.” I stayed in position, mentally congratulating myself for staying calm, yet also ready to grab him if he were to try and make a run for it.

As a new mother, one of the many advices I’ve been given is to “CHOOSE YOUR BATTLES.” I have battled one at a time. Today I face a battle within myself: my impatience vs my wanting to parent right. I mentioned a clock, but there comes a point when even the clock has to take a seat while I live my family life. I am tempted to bribe him. It ALWAYS works! Marshmallows, chocolates, a walk around the block to grandma’s house. I also know I cannot raise him like that forever. There has to be logic in the things we do. Socks keep our feet warm and we put our socks on first, then we can put shoes on.

“Do you like these socks? They’re from grandma so they’re special. We all love your feet and want to keep them warm. Or did you want to pick another pair?”

Sometimes it is not the moment at hand that is the real issue. I believe that these battles are the final bomb after several events throughout the day. Except now it is only 7:12 am and we are getting dressed for school. So what on earth happened already? Maybe little brother woke us up too early and disturbed our sleep. Maybe mommy should have let him have chocolate milk this morning? Maybe we should have kept track of his special car before we went to bed so we could have found it first thing this morning? Maybe he had a bad dream and it’s just put him in a mood. Maybe his tummy hurts because according to the chart it has been 4 days since his last BM. Who knows! But here we are, and all I want to do is put his socks on! It’s so simple! They’re just socks! What is the deal? Why does being a mom have to be so hard? I thought this defiance wouldn’t come until the teen years! He’s four! And for four years I have been faced with his constant no’s. I have broken down from time to time. I have lost my mind from time to time. But not this morning. Today I will win!

I open the drawer hoping he will accept the invitation to choose his own socks. I usually have his outfit picked out the night before and he usually does not care what he is wearing. I still don’t think he really cares, I think he just TRIES to do anything he can to push my buttons!

He finally moves out of his frozen position and looks in the drawer, and pulls out another pair. In continued silence he hands them to me. A satisfied look on his face that mommy did not get her way. That he in fact chose THESE socks and he will now MAKE mommy put them on him.

I do put them on his feet. I have always loved little feet. From newborns to little children, but not older children, not when feet get big and dirty and stinky! Hahaha! His skin is soft, his toenails too long. Another battle for another day.

With socks now on his feet, which is the last of his clothing attire besides shoes, he runs off knowing he is done for now. Again I mentally pat myself on the back that no war raged, that anger was kept at bay and we can move on to the next phase of our morning.

The journey of motherhood is full of unexpected rebellions from our kids, but if there is one thing I have learned so far in this 4 year journey, it is that love conquers all.

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Behind the Scenes of the Housewife Life

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Having a picnic for snack time in our front yard.

My current house is painted white. There is a “welcome” mat and a small mailbox, a wreath on the door with a tiny bunting I made. I love having front steps to sit on and watch the world drive by. Sometimes the boys sit with me and we count cars together. Inside our house, and everything that happens here, is what I call “behind the scenes.” Welcome to my home and my life. Have a seat on the couch and make yourself comfy.

I have house clothes and public clothes. Once in a blue moon I decide to “dress up” in my public clothes even though I am just at home with no plans of leaving. It’s just nice to not look lazy all the time. However, of course there had to be spills. The dark smudge on my jeans was from this morning’s breakfast when my two year old decided to dump the last of his milk on my lap and I didn’t care enough to change. I tell myself no one is going to notice. And here I am pointing it out to you.

My four year old points at my sockless ankle.

“Mommy what’s that? Did you have blood?” His nose wrinkled only an inch away from the questioned site.

“That’s a scab. You have scabs too. See? It was blood but now it is healing and that’s a scab. Mine is on my ankle and yours is on your knee.” He seems surprised at the discovery of his own scab and picks at it.

While he picks at his scab I admire my new nail varnish. A nude pinkish colour. One of my favourites I have ever had. When we moved from England to Ohio almost a year ago, it took a few months for me to realise I had gotten rid of all my nail varnish! So I bought a new colour but didn’t like it. I was in a bold mood and chose a bold colour. Mood swings coupled with impulsive buying was never a good match. This “safe” nude colour has proven perfect next to my tan skin. A small and otherwise trivial matter, but sometimes these small things can make a large difference in a woman’s world. I now wear my flip flops with confidence!

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Counting cars.

My two sons begin to scream at each other over a toy. They always want to play with the same one at the same time. Seriously? They have ALL these other toys and books and whatever, but they both want that ONE! A few months ago I had asked my husband if we could please start getting two of everything. He said no. They have to share and take turns. Fine. Before I became a mother, I believed my children would never fight. I have been humbled a thousand fold for thinking so foolishly.

I’ll make us a cup of tea. I only have peppermint, is that alright? Growing up, my mother used to always make peppermint tea, but we drank it cold. My love for mint must come from her. I miss her. Do you ever eat or drink something because of memories? Years ago when I was employed, I worked in a very posh retail store. We had our lunch break and later in the evening we had a tea break. I always had peppermint and liquorice tea, sweetened with brown raw cane sugar, with a slice of my homemade lemon cake. I haven’t been able to make a successful lemon cake since the big move but I will continue to try. The tea however, I cannot find anywhere! If you happen to see it, do let me know! For now, we will be grateful for this peppermint.

So, I am really out of the loop with the music world. On a bright note, I can sing several varieties of the Itsy Bitsy spider, the ABC song, and a few others that I can’t seem to think of on the spot. Having said that, it was a real treat the other day when I was in the car listening to my husband’s playlist and this really cool song came on. I am quite convinced that someone from the band at one point lived the life of a housewife. Because it totally connected with me. I don’t know who they are and I can’t remember what they said, but it was nice knowing that someone out there shared similar feelings as me.

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My four year old comes over and inspects my cup of tea.

“Is that hot lava? It’s hot. See? Smoke. Is it a fire? And burn the house down? No. You can drink it. Mommy do you like it? Is it good?”

I cannot express how wonderful it is to see my son growing up and hearing his thoughts. He may talk in circles but I am ecstatic that he’s figuring things out on his own! My two year old then comes over to see what the fuss is. He takes a look inside my cup and goes back to his playing. He could care less about my tea. I’m proud of him too. For being able to return to his task as if there had been no distraction.

What a journey motherhood is! It’s so big I am silenced for words. There is just an emotion, understood within the circle of women.

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Behind the scenes of a landscaped yard is a squirrel running up the tree. A spider busy spinning his dinner. A lady bug being watched by my four year old. Flowers being picked by my two year old. Pinecones waiting to be played with. Rocks waiting to be treasured.

Behind the scenes of my front door is family life. I watch how they walk. How they play. I listen to their voice. Their sounds. Their cries. I touch their skin, their hair and cuddle them close. I look into their eyes. I notice the books and movies they choose. The songs they sing to themselves. I notice their emotions, their reactions, trying to make sense of who they are. I am memorising all that I can.

I just re-read the 1,000 words that you just read and one word came to my mind: details. My life has become a life full of noticing details, dissecting those details, making some sense of those details. And I wonder, if I, like the passing cars that we count, am a detail in someone else’s story. A detail among the other millions of people living in this country. And yet here you are, dear friend reading these details of my life.  And with that thought, I’ll close with a quote from my four year old prince, ” thank you for realising me”.