My children all go to different buildings within our community and one goes to a different school altogether! My husband goes to one college and I go to another that is in another community! Then let’s not forget my kindergartener starting ballet and tap dance school in yet another community! It’s insanity I tell you! Oh, the schedules, appointments, doctors, errands, lunches, backpacks, homework, blah blah blah! It’s a mess, and I can’t wait to fall into a routine. Will I? I must.

The first day of my daughter’s kindergarten found her missing her bus stop completely, leaving dear mother here alone, confused, and worried standing on the side of the road with a camera in one hand and a phone in the other calling the bus service. After being so rudely handled by the company, they finally admit that she is riding her bus out in the country somewhere. An hour and a half after she was expected to arrive home, I had to pick her up at the bus service. Not a happy camper was I. Luckily, my dear 5yr old was just waking up from her slumber in the back of the bus where she had been all along and she never knew the difference.

 The following week, my 4yr old son started preschool with almost an identical ending. This time, however, as I was standing waiting for the bus (which was over 20 minutes late, mind you) another mother phoned the bus service to find out the bus was running late. Upon his bus’ arrival, the bus driver held my little son’s hand and walked him to me, explaining that he had gotten on the wrong bus. Later, I learned that the two busses ended up at a rendezvous point of a gas station to switch my little passenger. And once again, relief overcame me when my son beamed at me and said he loved school and his bus! Again, my precious child never knew the difference.

So much has happened before and since then that I must write about another time. Won’t you join me?

Nikki Lynne

I never called him, he called me. I never wanted another date, and yet, he insists on taking me on more.

He drives me crazy sometimes. I wish there were a magic pill that would make him leave, and never return.

However, there is a familiar feeling that comes over me when he visits. It’s not pleasant, but familiar. He does remind me that I need to slow down and de-stress at times when I wouldn’t normally listen to my body’s cues.

He humbles me, too. He makes me realize I am only a mortal human. He brings me back to what’s really important by making me prioritize my moves.

Though he’s an unwanted guest, he is now a part of me. He is like a relative that I must learn to tolerate and manage with.

We are very close, but I must be careful. He can get inflamed when I push him too far. I’m not scared of him. I’m more sad that he has nothing better to do than attack me at the most inconvenient of times.

So, is Arthr Itis my friend?

I don’t think it matters. He’s part of me and through therapy and medications we shall learn to develop a working relationship.

Nikki Lynne

 After finding an alternate pair of shoes and a sock that matched “good enough”, I loaded my children in the very hot, un-airconditioned, old, beat up van we call ‘transportation.’ After buckling my 4 year old into his seat in the very back, he attempts (for the umpteenth time) to ascertain his chances of receiving a toy on today’s venture out into the ‘real world.’ I pretend I don’t hear his repeated plea as I then, with sweat pouring off my brow, buckle my 5yr old into the second row of our sweltering rust bucket. By this time, the 5yr old puts on her prettiest eyelash beater and shoots a glance up to me with one little finger on her lip and asks, “Mom, if we be good, may we pweeeeeze get a toy today? It would be oh so nice! And, Mom? I wuv you so so so much!” After I take a deep breath and roll my eyes to the back of my head, I begin to stand, only to knock my head on the roof of the van.

At this point I just grab my hair, grumble, and step out. Shutting the sliding door, I rush to the driver side to get in. I hurry and turn on the van so I may roll down the windows before we all suffocate from heat exhaustion. As the windows roll down, I feel the hot breeze rush in, and, for a brief moment, I relax and enjoy the movement of air, the warmth on my aching back from the sun-baked seat, and the fact that I had accomplished the first part of today’s mission (gathering the kids and strapping them in for the ride).

As we pull away from the drive at our home, I hear a panicked voice from the rear of the van. “Mom, huwwy!” I answer. “What, baby?” “Oh, Mom, I see da evil is behind us!” At this point I know the score. My little 4 year old son is enamored with superheroes and evil doers. From Power Rangers, to Spiderman, Ninja Turtles, The Incredibles, etc., my son is imagining we are the superheroes and we must SAVE THE WORLD!

I assure my son. “Okay, we can do this, son! I’m throwing our supervan into mega speed!” Glancing back at my son in the rear-view mirror, I see his face crack a knowing smile, then a look of seriousness crosses his 4 year old face. “I got my ‘phasows’ out and I’m gonna shoot him, mama! Shhp….shhhp…pwwwwwwk….pwwwwwwk….he makes the sounds of the phasers and guns that he’s engaging to annihilate the enemy. “Good going, my son!” I shout proudly to the rear as I swerve the van ever so slightly to give the illusion that I am struggling with the evil forces as well.

Meanwhile, my daughter, sitting between her half-baked mother and terribly excited brother pipes up. “Um, I’ll just be the baby sister, ok?” I acknowlege her station. “Ok, hon.” (My 5yr old daughter would MUCH rather be playing “house” or “doctor” at this point, but what could I do? The evil doers were still attacking me and my family?)

My son begins shouting again. “Mom! You gotta put it into hypow mode and shoot out da back guns! And qwick!” I thank my son for reminding me of my duties. “Ok, son, here we go!” At this point I take my foot off the gas pedal and then back on again, just enough to make the van feel as though there were a tug (as in hypermode) and I make noises like I am pressing buttons and shooting out the rear of the van…..pwwwweewwwr…pwwwwwweeeeeerrrrr……shukkk….shuuuuukkkkkkk! My son finally cries out. “We got ‘em, Mom! Good Job!”

Now it’s time for Mom to crack a knowing smile; satisfied the world was saved for another day.

I’ve thought a lot about that moment in our old van. I was hot, tired, feeling just as old, beat up, and used as the van we were riding in. My frustration level was high and I just wanted to get the day over with, until my toddler son reminded me of something very important. He reminded me that there is always evil behind us, and if we allow that evil to catch up with us, it could ruin us, it could hurt us, it could make us forget what’s really important in life. That day, the evil was my mental garbage and I thank God that my son, my superhero, (even for just a moment in time) was there to pick up the garbage and carry it away for me. Thanks, baby!

Nikki Lynne

Let it flow, let it move.

Sing the song inside your soul;

Let it roll, let it beat.

Sing the song inside your heart;

Let it dance, let it speak.

Let your song be who you are;

Let who you are be your song.

Sing on!

Sing strong!

Your life is your song.

Nikki Lynne

 The only lighting we had was the parking lot lights. It made the bubbles appear as glass balls reflecting all the colors of the rainbow. They appeared almost magical, mystical floating in the night. My 4yr old son pretended that the bubbles were fire coming from a ferocious dragon’s mouth and attacked the bubbles as they came to him! My 5yr old daughter delighted in clapping the bubbles before anyone else could get them, enjoying the competition! My 12yr old son enjoyed capturing the bubbles that flew too high for the “little ones”. All in all, it was a pleasurable half hour of fun, although when it was over, my fingers had a permanent dent in them from holding the bubble shaper, and my fingers were slimy with glycerin fluid. I allowed my children to stay outside for another few minutes as I headed up the stairs to clean the supper dishes and get ready for bed.

When I finally did lie down, I realized it had been 40hrs since I had had any substantial sleep. That is incredulous! And yet, when my little ones wanted to crawl into bed with me and pretend to look at the “stars” in the sky with them, how could I refuse? They both wanted to be close to me, so I had to scoot to the center of the bed while we “identified” various shapes the “stars” made in the sky. My son discovers “Scoop, and Bob the Builder!” My daughter yells out…” I see an apple”, then I remind them of the time and have them hush their volume. I tell them “I see a banana” and both lick their lips and say “yum, yum”.

 At this time, I tell them I simply have to sleep. As long as Mommy’s bubble-blowing hands and arms were on each of them, on each side, they were happy. As we snuggled close, my older sons came in and wanted to hug and kiss me as well. I don’t think they ever get over that desire to snuggle as we did when they were younger. They each took turns sitting close to us and snuggling before they went off to their beds. As each kid went to bed the little ones and I each took turns calling out, “I love you” addressing each boy individually like something out of a Walton‘s episode…..(good night, John Boy!)hee hee!

As the room started settling down and the bodies were relaxed, my daughter silently kisses my arm and says “I wuv you, Mom, I’m sewious!” Then, no more than two minutes later my little son draws my face into his tiny hands and looks me square in the eyes whispering “Fanks for doing bubbles in the dark. Dat was weally fun! You are da bes’ mom forever in the whole world!” Talk about emotions overwhelming a body! Pride, love, joy, content…Peace. It was enough to create that inner peace inside that lead me to slumber with my bubble-popping babes.

Nikki Lynne

 After 20 minutes of fooling myself and hoping their hunger or thirst would subside, I crawled…very slowly my way up to my hands and knees where I moaned and cried with pain….good ole arthritis! When I finally stood, it took me a few minutes to get my wits about me, and stand up as straight as I could. I proceeded to satiate my children’s breakfast desires and made coffee. I, then, put dishes away, did up the over night dishes and made my 12yr old son’s breakfast as he was now awake. Bless his heart, he rinsed his dish when he completed his mini feast!

By this time I decided to continue cleaning and straightened my bedroom, made my bed and gathered 6 loads of laundry. I decided instead of feeling sorry for myself, I would call my friend who just had a baby and ask her how she was and doted on her and her child. It felt good to give rather than to sulk about my own problems. I then decided if I was going to the laundromat anyway, I would call my mom in the next town and offer to do hers as well. Again, it felt good to reach out and help others, rather than complain. My mother seems happy to have the assistance and I am overjoyed to be of service. I am determined to make this day a good one.

 I promised my little ones that if they stay home with their big brother now, I will take them somewhere special early this evening when it’s not too hot. I figure either a free petting zoo or the park. They seem satisfied with that remedy.

 So, off I go now, away from this frustration station and toward the next town with my 12yr old son to do some proactive work for our house as well as “grammy’s”.

Nikki Lynne

 You see, we have only one air conditioner in the house, and the livingroom is where it is, so that is where they sleep on such hot nights. It is a heat wave here in the Midwest. This is something we are certainly not accustomed to. But, before I digress further, let me explain my thoughts as my tired body walked in the door…..

… A bit of regret that one of them wasn’t up waiting to run to me and hug me.

… A bit of relief that all are sleeping and I will get to throw off these hot shoes and clothing for a house dress without interruption.

… A bit of pain from staying awake all night and aching joints not cooperating.

…A bit of peace, to be able to do whatever I want with these precious few moments this morning before the demands of the wife and mother of me begin.

…A bit of guilt for not cleaning or cooking while I have this opportunity.

 Such a strange and wonderful grouping of emotions, don’t you think?

 And now, a bit of sleepiness is overcoming my body as I type and see around my computer, children beginning to stir. What to do now….a bit of indecision.

Nikki Lynne

I would say my personality could be defined by the very title of this blog as my life seems to be directed almost entirely by my creative swings and emotional moods. I am a mother of 4 children whom I dearly love. I am the wife of Michael, who is truly the love of my life. He and I match each other on similar lines as our spirits are entwined with creativity and emotions.

 For now I will leave this post because of the many demands on me in my house, however, I will return soon to further indulge you with my stories and creations!

Nikki Lynne