I am having a moment. A moment where I am wondering, “Is this what I signed up for as a mom?” If so, I am done. It is the second day of tantrums with Audrey that start to rumble around lunchtime. I cannot figure out what to feed these kids that has any nutritional values that they won’t spit out with spite or tell me in a whine, “This is gross!” without even tasting it! And that sets off the tantrum. And then I am dragging them upstairs for time-outs and naps. Spankings don’t work. Today, we are heaving up the stairs with screeching and little bursts of blood-curdling screams of anger and rage and all of a sudden Audrey is coughing and hacking and making herself dry-heave (curse that strong gag-reflex). Before I know it, the fruit smoothie from mid-morning is coming up and out onto the hardwood stairs in a nice, neat little puddle. Great. I feel my heart racing, emotion rising and tears brimming.
And all I have to say when it is all over: thank God for Solumel.
Postscript: My kind husband has pointed out that the above writing could be misconstrued as anger. No. Exasperation mixed with humor is more like it.
Postscript2: Get this: the girls wake up from their forced naps. Audrey tells me she is thirsty while I am cleaning the upstairs sitting room. I tell her to go downstairs and find her water cup. I come down a bit later after not seeing her for sometime, and lo and behold, there she is in the kitchen nook eating the very food we fought to the point of vomit over earlier. You have got to be freakin’ kidding me?!? Get this2: This evening, instead of eating LoAnn’s amazing homemade macaroni and cheese, the kid wants a repeat performance of what we had for lunch. She is currently in the kitchen eating another helping of it (tuna fish salad).
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change (like four year old’s who refuse to eat their lunches and puke all over my stairs) and courage to change the things I can (like my visceral reactions to not liking being a mom some days).

you know, about 6 months ago Evan was flipping out every day at noon. it was almost like clockwork.
The end of that mighty and powerful prayer is
“and the wisdom to know the difference.
One of the biggest mysteries in my life has been my children.
Yet, at the same time, it demystifies life and purpose.
Often, it has been the only evidence in my life that God is real and He loves me.
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things, I cannot change,”
(why I was sexually-incestuously abused as a child, my parents cancers , deaths, people who continue to denying the sin of abusers because it may “disturb” their illusions, psoriasis, that fat tastes so darn good, war, hunger, the effects of alcohol,)
The courage to change the things I can,”
(child abuse, my own health, standing up for truth for victims of incest and sexual/childhood abuse, to help other alcoholics, honor my body, eat well, serve others with wholesome and happy food, hold another hand, rescue the animals, make someone smile)
“And the wisdom to know the difference”
(God’s grace, God’s peace and God’s love)
Amen
I AM SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING ADOPTING A 25 YEAR OLD. WHAT DO YOU THINK?