Can I be serious for a moment? Because I joke a lot about my life. Self-deprecating humor has been and probably always will be my first line of defense and even if it doesn't entertain you, it entertains me, and we all know that's what's really important. I used to spread the snarky humor blanket a little further and poke fun at friends, family, acquaintances, random people at the supermarket, but the last decade I've been working very hard to be a kinder, gentler me. I try to seek God's will in all things and no matter how many times I try to change His mind about it He just doesn't think being mean about or to people is as funny as I do, so I try my best to cut it out. And so I'm mean about me because I know I love me, I value me, I actually think I'm pretty damn awesome and I don't have to assure myself that I'm just kidding.
So all that to say...I get a lot of comments about my choices in the realm of family life. By that I mean my family size (it seems perfectly reasonable to me), child spacing (less reasonable, I'll admit), and homeschooling (bat shit crazy). From the innocuous "you sure do have your hands full" to the downright nasty, random strangers for some reason find it appropriate not only to judge my choices but to vocalize their opinions. Today was no exception. I had the gall to go to the grocery store with the kids in tow (by way of review that would include Thing 1, Thing 2, Toot, and Puddle whose respective ages are 7, 6, 2 and 9 months). Two ladies behind me were staring silently at us while we picked out our Pop Tarts then one commented to the other, quite loudly, "Well, life could be worse." Uproarious laughter ensued and a chuckling, "You're so wrong." Rude, yes. Atypical? Not so much.
Luckily I have heard it said and find it to be true that you only get your feelings hurt in areas in which you're already insecure. And whatever your opinions might be on my family, random strangers, I have it on good authority that we totally rock. Like rock stars. So I continued perusing my junk food of choice as if I didn't know they were talking about me; they moved on. No lessons were taught, no pointed comebacks made. I wished them a silent "may you be blessed" and hopefully paid off a little karmic debt. When we got back into the truck, the song playing on my radio sang "mind your own biscuits and life will be gravy." I had to laugh. Hokey, yes, but so, so true. Toot loves the song. It makes him wave his chubby little fists and grin the grin that shows both dimples. Life could be worse, indeed.
So why am I blogging about it? I'm not sure actually. I think because in a weird and roundabout way it made me feel grateful for my crazy life and the four little reasons I live in a constant state of chaos. As I type Toot and Puddle are napping (Puddle in his crib like a normal baby, Toot behind the couch because that's how he rolls), while Thing 1 repeats everything Thing 2 says because that's what big brothers do. We've finished our fancy lunch of frozen chicken nuggets, potato chips and yogurt. There's nothing extraordinary about today but then again there is everything extraordinary about it. I get to end this post, take advantage of naptime, and read T1 and T2 some of the gloriously dark Grimm's fairy tales we checked out from the library yesterday. And, later, after they all have gone to bed and the chaos is temporarily at bay, I may pour a cup of coffee, fire up My Precious, and read some more of the current grown-up read (although it's actually YA this time around). Or I may collapse in an exhausted heap and snore until Puddle wakes me up for a midnight nursing party. Either way it's all gravy.