Eating my own words

I remember a time, a time before children or perhaps even before marriage, it was a time of strong opinions, and daring statements, it was a time when I was trying to carve my mold for a perfect life.  A life when I would be done with school in four years, after which I would immediately be employed at a dream job, and then at around 25 start thinking about marriage.  A life where my spouse and I would have a perfect house, on a perfect street, living debt free, with plenty of income.  My children would be raised without the influence of modern day trends, no play weapons of any kind, and I would only encourage nature play, perhaps with a science influence.  Children potty trained before 3 (hey they'll get it before kindergarten.....right?), baby weight gone in six months (I think I can stop blaming the extra weight on the baby, he's 3 now), only buy things with cash (There is nothing wrong with building your credit), children toys to a minimum (What if I like playing with the legos?) , no overindulging (Does this include cookies?), babies on a sleep, nurse, play schedule (Was I ready to be on a schedule?), really I could go on and on.  However I had made all those standards I wanted to follow before really experiencing what life had to throw at me.  Once living those experiences everything changed, I learned to eat my words.  I was married at 20 not 25, my husband and I were no where near finishing school, and it would take us much longer then four years.  We didn't get a house, let alone a perfect house for a long time after that, and having a surplus of income is something we are still always working on.  Oh and all those statements I made about child rearing, if only I had a nickle for every one that are still changing daily, maybe we would have an income surplus.  The things I truly believe in I remain loyal to, but the ones I realized where not all that important, have changed.  I still  remember when  my oldest was a babe, I saw him pick up a straw, bend it in half and begin shooting things with it.  After that anything became a sword or a gun:  hairbrushes, sticks, wooden spoons, phones, water bottles anything would do, and really he was just preparing me for what was to come with my next two boys.  They took weapon manipulation to a whole new level.  Cheap plastic swords, and Nerf guns, now fill shelves in their bedroom (along with dozens of sticks, they really make the best bow and arrows).  My oldest, really kind of a science junky, skipped the whole superhero/ninja phase, but my younger two have embraced it with both arms.  Superhero, Transformer, and Star Wars t-shirts, something I previously would steer very clear of, now permeate our lives.  I've managed to dodge the character shoes for now, but I'm making no strong statements on that matter.  So really it should come as no surprise when Halloween comes along and costumes follow a similar trend.  Gone are the days of family themed costumes (Man I really loved our fishermen with our little lobster catch).  Say goodbye to our family of bugs, snakes, and leprechauns, our natural disaster combo, and our Hogwarts cast, say hello to Hawkeye, the Red Ranger, and one not too scary Zombie.

 

    

I guess I can be happy that I was able to gather pieces of their costume from multiple visits to some of my favorite treasure hunting stores.  And with a little altering, I was able to add some creative input on creating their Halloween attire.  I still cringed  a little when I realized the weapon determined what character they wanted to be, pass me a spoon for my word stew.  Eating my words has made me the mother I am.  I'll never judge, so don't be afraid to share with me something you might be shameful of, your eight year old still climbs into bed with you on a regular basis, so does mine, we just make room for him next to our three year old, you've had days were you children have watched three movies, it happens to the best of us, your five year old still has "accidents", welcome to the club.  I've found that I've really acquired quite a taste for eating my own words, and really after the first few bites, it doesn't taste all that bad.  And as far as carving my mold for a perfect life, I think I did a pretty good job, things might not be perfect, but they're exactly how I want them.