Life as a Human Being is a curious adventure, indeed. I am this person, who is figuring stuff out. I am married to another person, who (of course!) is figuring stuff out. We have bred three children, who are (also!) figuring stuff out. I won’t even get into all of the other people who are connected to us because then my head will explode and I’m not quite sure how to clean that mess up.
Saturday morning was as Saturday morning is, minus my husband who was off on a course. This meant that I had to take the boys to soccer (which included Picture Day)(and some hair product for The Child With The Wayward Hair) and take Emily to ballet, which was also Picture Day (with all of the requisite stuffing into the costume/shellacking hair into a bun/putting MAKEUP ON/posing for photos) and then back to soccer to watch my boys finish their games.
When it was over we grabbed water bottles and discarded hoodies and made our way to the van and Emily was telling the dudes how good they played and the dudes were talking about the moves they made and I hit the magic key that opens the sliding doors and then I had one of those checks. The one where the world jumps to one side and the force of it makes you sit for a moment or two and wonder how exactly you got to be here.
I am a Mom. I am a MOM. I am a Mom? I AM A MOM. I think.
I still feel like that twenty-year-old who ventured to the big city of Vancouver and how did I get to have a minivan filled with three kids who can buckle their own seat belts (and wipe their own bums)?
I look at my eldest who is up to my shoulder in height and who has gaping holes in his mouth and who can read anything and everything and who picks up on all of the innuendos that his Dad and I fire at each other and, wait. I just gave birth to him. All nine pounds, twelve twelve ounces of him. All chubby cheeks and chubby thighs and chubby awesome of him.
I look at my middle child. He, who came out long and lanky, like his Dad, and who is still long and lanky, like his Dad, and who looks exactly like his Dad. I find myself looking at him every day (EVERY DAY) trying to find a glimmer of me, because that’s what we tend to do, but my genes lay dormant. Looks aren’t everything, of course, and so I revel in his inherent being. He loves to love. To hug and to say nice things and to HUG. Oh, he loves to hug.
I look at my baby girl. She who is so much like me that it is a little bit stupid. At this stage, I know how to handle her. Throw in teenage hormones and I may have to take a seven-year sabbatical. Preferably somewhere tropical. Until then, I will continue to smile when she dances for us in our living room and when she sings in the van and when I tuck her in at night and we have the, “I love you MORE!” argument and, yeah.
That check I had on Saturday is lingering and while I don’t know exactly how I got here, I know that I don’t want to be anywhere else.









Happy Mother’s Day! Love the photo of you and your kiddos. I hope you had a fantastic day!
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I hope you had a lovely Mother’s Day with your adorable children!!
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Oh, what a beautiful post. Happy Mother’s Day to you, Angella! Beautiful photo at the end of your post, too.
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How did this happen to us!?
Isn’t it awesome!?
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Happy Mother’s Day! Love Nathan’s toothless grin!
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They are growing up WAY TOO FAST (as are mine). It’s weird sometimes, to be going through all the motions and then to stop … and realize where you are and how you got there.
Happy (late) Mother’s Day to you.
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great photo, lady
happy mothers’ day!
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I always think about that: How strange it would be to suddenly have a child and you’re this whole other person, but you’re not, really. You’re still the same you you’ve always been, except, well, so drastically different. I still remember figuring that about my own mother: “Oh, I get it. She’s this PERSON, with hopes and dreams and fears outside of me and Theresa.” Pretty amazing. And surreal, I can imagine.
All of that to say: So glad your Mother’s Day was so lovely. Lovely mothers deserve lovely Mother’s Days.
(And I love that picture of you and my three favorite kiddos.)
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Amen!
I too, have moments where I realize that I am not 19 and leaving home for the first time but now have a home of my own with a family of my own.
No idea how this happened, but like you, I wouldn’t change a thing!
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Your last sentence says it all. I have the same thoughts so often and I will look at Tim and say, “how did we get HERE, with three kids? How are WE the parents?” I’m sure our parents had the same thoughts. It blows my mind some days.
Happy belated Mother’s Day!
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I LOVE this, Angella. Just love it.
(And, for the record, this is the 2nd blog post I’ve read this morning and it’s the 2nd one that made reference to wiping bottoms. I love bloggers.)
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What a wonderful picture of you and your children, together. I think that is one of my only regrets as a mother- took a lot of pictures (none of them very good, with a cheap point and shoot camera in the days of film) but few where I was in the picture with them.
I’m so happy you had a good Mother’s Day. It makes me happy to see you happy!
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So sweet. Life flashes by, doesn’t it?
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Happy Mother’s Day!!
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Happy Mother’s Day!
I’ve been a mom for almost 22 years and sometimes I still feel like I am faking it. Especially when I’m at parent teacher interviews …
Weird … I know …
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14 years in and I still find myself having that same “How did that happen” thought. Late at night I find myself suddenly realizing there is a person in the other room that I actually gave birth to, that I need to feed and keep a roof over its head. Still scares the crap out of me at times, lol.
Your a fantastic Mom and you prove it in ever word you type and every photo you take.
“I don’t know exactly how I got here, I know that I don’t want to be anywhere else” this is exactly how I feel and truely says it all.
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