Three Boys and a Little Lady: Super Grandparents to the Rescue

First of all, perfect moms may exist somewhere (California perhaps), but super moms are not, I repeat, are not real. We may look and act super on the outside, but super heroes are also super on the inside... and have super characteristics when no one is looking. I don't think there's any mom out there who after she has the kids in bed, or steals alone time in the bathroom, or closes herself up in the laundry room, can say they act perfectly strong and amazing when no one's looking. That's super hero character. That's not me and I'd like to meet the non-existent woman who can do that.

I've said it many times before, parenting has made me lose my mind. I'm incredibly crazy in the head when it comes to multi-tasking processes. I'm amazingly forgetful; to the point of forgetting things at work like from one end of the hallway to the next. I rely heavily on post-it notes. I'll get BIG news during the day, maybe even hot gossip or a little secret, and by the time I get home, I forget all about telling it to Daddo. {your secret's safe with me}. I put important school notes on the fridge, {sometimes in the fridge if I'm having an especially mental day}. I have sports schedules routinely placed in my cerebrum {M/Wed baseball, Tuesday soccer and tball, Thursday tball}. Lord help us if practices are ever changed. I forget to call people, I forget where I put things ALL the time and I forget when I have ideas or tasks that I just came up with like seconds before! Agh!

Not only am I forgetful but I completely stop thinking at times.... you know? I've poured milk over Cheez-Its, put a sippy cup in the fridge while handing the gallon of milk to a toddler, and I've taken my kids to a birthday party (recently) in their pjs because I got confused with the time of the party and we raced out the door.

They say that pregnancy hormones can affect a woman's ability to focus, especially while breastfeeding. I think this happened to me each time and then I never fully regained my mental composure between pregnancies. So I have 36 months of this hormonal lack of focus going against me. Poor Daddo.

The reason I try to be super routine, extremely big on daily and weekly agendas and keeping things the same is because of this lack of focus. I may sometimes look like a super-on-top-of-it kind of gal, but actually it's only masking the crazy woman luring underneath.

Earlier this week my youngest son had his VERY FIRST t-ball practice. He also had his soccer practice immediately before and in another town {and his crazy momma coaching it so he had to be there and on time}. For the first time, I actually remembered to put his practice clothes for each sport in with his things for the day. He stays with my mother-in-law on this day so she would have him dressed and ready when I got there {this is a prelude to the point of this post}. As usual I had raced home from work to change clothes, says our Hellos and How was your days to my older boys and Daddo before racing back out to the car. Gas. Out of gas. I forgot all about it and had to run to fill up before getting the soccer kid. Once I finally got to our Nonnie's to pick him up {and his sister} they were dressed and ready and playing out side in the driveway. As I pulled up {it's a long driveway} I saw Cora playing on my right side and was watching her knowing Rhett and Nonnie were further down in front of me on the concrete path. They were both waving at me with their arms in the air. But I glanced back over to Cora then to them again and I waved back before coming to a stop.... I felt the quick lump under my tire and saw the look on my four year old's face. Nonnie gave me a reassuring, I really can't believe you did that but it's ok, smile. I rolled down my window and asked what did I run over. My mind raced. They don't have a cat. Thank God they don't have a cat. He'd be dead now. But what was it?

Then Nonnie said, 'It was his soccer ball.'

I looked back at Rhett. He stood there with both of his hands over his head. I got out and ran over to the other side of my car where the ball was. Still under my car, it was not as flat as a pancake but it wasn't round or inflated anymore either. My hopeful four year old said, 'can you blow it back up?'

I explained to him that maybe it could be but I'd probably have to get him a new one. Then I went on giving my side of the story of how I just managed to run over his soccer ball just perfectly.

We eventually got to practice and maneuvered around all of the mud, rain puddles and slushy ground to find a place on the field suitable for our 45 minute practice. I had his drawstring bag with his clothes and also our orange cones for practice inside. I took them out and kept the bag and water bottles next to our mini soccer goal during practice. As soon as practice was over, complete with partner drills of sharing balls, we had to rush to get back to t-ball practice. Of course, as the coach I had parents asking me questions about our rain-out games, I had to gather equipment in the car and go get my two year old playing on the playground.... all the while Rhett changed into his baseball clothes in the car.... soaked with mud.

During all of this I somehow picked up his tennis shoes, sat them back down again on the ground by my car, loaded up the kids, closed the doors and pulled away.

I thought all evening, his soccer cleats are in the bag with the cones, the flat ball is in the car.... I got each kid and their water bottles. I'm good.

The next morning as we were getting on our shoes to leave for the day his sneakers were no where. I racked my brain... what in the world did I do? Brand new, week old shoes for my incredibly type A about everything (especially his shoes) four year old who just witessed his soccer ball get run over by a car driven by his momma. Bless his heart. Maybe they were still sitting in that parking spot where I left them at 6:15 the evening before.

During my lunch break I drove over there, of course finding no sign of the shoes.

I was sad for him. As soon as I picked him up from his sitter that day he asked if I got his shoes and his soccer ball back. I told him I would take him to get both things {mind racing for my next free day to go shopping} soon I said.

The next morning, my father-in-law, 'Grump,' called to ask Daddo if the shoes were found. Then he said he would take him to go get some new ones. We told him over and over that he didn't have to do that, or need to and that we would get him some this weekend, along with a ball. After hearing this, Grump said, 'I know I don't have to but if it's ok with you I'd like to just because I want to.'

Can you believe that? And he did. He went and picked up Rhett from our babysitter, took him to the shoe store, let him find the ones he wanted {great shoes thank goodness} and had him back at the sitter within a couple of hours. When I picked him up that afternoon he was so excited about getting home to show me his shoes. He was just beaming.

Later that evening I had Rhett use my phone to call Grump to thank him again for his new shoes.

Rhett: 'Hi Grump, thank you for getting me new shoes.'

Grump: 'You're very welcome. I hope you like them.'

Rhett: 'I wike them a wot. I wove you. Bye'

Grump: 'I love you too. Bye.'

I love my kids' grandparents so very much. Nonnie, Grump, Grammy and Big Ron are always there right when we need them; snacks at a ball game, last minute sitter, watching my littles while I work, and new shoes when I am so forgetful. They do this kind of stuff all the time. They are always there; traveling far and wide for the kids' sports, buying fundraisers and shirts and helping with birthdays. They are amazing blessings for our family and without them I know we would be lost and barely hanging on. They are the type of people who make us feel like we are doing them a favor for helping with the kids. There are just no words to describe how much they mean to us and the relationships they have with each of our four kiddos. That is the most precious gift of all.