My Lovelies, Meet Leah...

I'm not exactly sure what to say to you all.

I post a blog about my sweet little girls ear infection and how I secretly love Celine Dion more than candy and you all leave me comment after comment about your failings as mothers. Huh? What? What do I say to that?

I'll tell you what I say....BRAVVVOOOO mama's. Bravo!

See? This really is the season of giving and you have all have given me something wonderful: the revelation that I. Am. Not. Alone.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

So as I was reading your comments, your FaceBook comments and your secret, private emails that you thought I would never dare share with anyone (ha! Think again.) I couldn't help but share a couple that, well, made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I might be better at this "momma thing" than I thought.

And so, I've decided to do this all special and fancy-like and lay it out in a countdown format. How Rick Dees of me, huh?

Coming in 3rd in our "Glad It Was Her And Not Me" Countdown goes to....

Sayrah's mom who let our dear, sweet Sayrah walk around for two weeks - fourteen days, people - before she took her to the doctor and realized Sayrah wasn't lying. Her arm really was broken!!!

Do you understand what I'm saying? What I'm saying is that I went to bed crying Saturday night because I thought, just thought, that I might have an ingrown toenail and Sayrah had to walk around for two weeks....

I can't even continue. I'm aghast.

I would normally be really mad at Sayrah's mom, but I'm not. Instead I feel like writing her a thank-you note for a.) making me feel normal and b.) making me laugh.

Sorry, Sayrah. Sorta.

And now, in our "Glad It Was Her And Not Me" countdown, number two. Ladies and gents, here is Karen Carter.

I'll let Karen tell you what she did: My son chad fell on his bike and was complaining about his stomach hurting. I replied "well I told you to stay on the trail with mom - so you push your bike back home if it hurts too much to ride it" After a couple blocks I could see he was hurting! Turns out he bruised his spleen. I still feel bad and its 15 years later. No wonder I spoil him now to make up for all my "mommy dearest" moments!

My favorite moment of this whole incident is that I can just hear her mommy voice (we alllllll know what the mommy voice sounds like, do we not?) saying "well I told you to stay on the trail with mom..." Because as all moms know, and children should know - we. know. it. all.

But a bruised spleen??? Holy mackerel, my kid just had an ear infection. Her kid had a bruised spleen.

Thank you, Lord, that wasn't me.
Did you hear that Lord?
It wasn't me - it was Karen Carter.
That's Karen, with a K, and Carter, with a C.
Karen Carter.
Karen.
Carter.

Enough.

And finally, drum roll please, I'd like for you to meet Leah. (I don't know how to get a hold of Leah. If you know her tell her to come accept her award.)

Leah says, "I'm pretty sure I can claim 'mom of the year' ....... when my son was 12 we were standing in line at school to register. The line was going fairly slowly and my son, who is typically chipper started looking pretty bored and as each minute passed he looked more and more 'disgusted' with the waiting. Very unlike him so I lectured him about standing around looking lifeless and like 'death passed over' and I was telling him that we don't always like what we have to do but we still have to keep a good cheerful attitude and then he tells me he feels very tired so I started lecturing him about how we probably need to make his bedtime earlier and next thing I know he's down on the ground having a seizure and then he quit breathing. Luckily the school nurse was there that day but it required an ambulance and trip to ER. Luckily he is totally fine and healthy and almost 16 and it was some freak thing but I felt SO AWFUL afterwards about lecturing him on his lifeless state.

I feel absolutely horrible for saying this, I really do, but every time I read this I laugh. Mainly because how many of us have given the ol' "you can get glad in the same pants you got mad in" speech. (I see a few hands.) But how many times have they ended up with a seizure and an ambulance?

I mean, is that just a really crappy momma day or what?

Poor Leah, in the south we say "bless her heart" for someone who we know is pitiful or for someone who is going to have a first class ticket to hell. Leah, my love, that is you.

Oh, I'm kidding, you're really not. I am sure, like most momma's, you went to bed that night, balled up into a fetal position and said 45 Hail Mary's over the things you said / screamed at your children. Your sins are forgiven, my child. Live long and prosper.

So thank you all for making me feel like part of a massive army. An army of untrained, undisciplined, misfit soldiers; who when it came right down to it, wouldn't trade their job for anything in the world.

NOW GET UP OFF THAT FLOOR!!!