Sep 26, 2012

When Stay at Home Moms Don't Stay Home

Or why is my house looking more like a dumpster and less like a home? And we weren't even here to mess it. notfair.

I left home today at 9 and didn't get home until 9. I don't even have a societal recognized profession.

I really didn't do much if you are looking for actual results, but I did learn lessons of life and I am here to unload them on to the world wide webisphere of love.


This morning I had my class where I learn to be a good mom/wife from the school of the best one yet. The very Blessed Mother. My True Devotion class. It is truly enlightening. The 2 times this year have gone at least. In fashionably 20 min. late fashion with some bathroom breaks, nursing/ soiling babe and momma en leche, and waiting for screaming to subside after I drop of Gianna (and Davy) in the fun kid room with very nice babysitters.

Except today, Gianna's screaming did not end and I felt like the right thing to do was to removed her and the rest of our girl posse from promoting momma's sanctity/sanity. sad day.

I got the notes from a friend. Basically that humility and obedience are must-haves for your road to being a phenomenal soul.

I went ahead and forced some humility into the morning after class via Plato's Closet. If you are trying to learn humility, bring some of your old favorite clothes into the store and have some obvi, very hip and dedazzled teen tell you that you are basically frumpy and ugly and they don't want your weird stuff. yayyyy humility.

Obedience didn't quite happen for anyone at our house today. But there is always tomorrow for dreams to come true.

i meant to add a really touching picture of my children.  pretty much the same thing.
The rest of the day away from home was spent at Grandma's for lunch and a fresh canvas to mess, Goodwill, the real Catechesis of the Good Shepherd for Davy, picking up Daddyo and driving him to a meeting with our three bambinas in the back of our very spacious and glamorous Ford Focus/clown car, Fiesta de Chipotle! and Davy's very first big girl shopping outing to buy clothes that are not hand-me-downs. We usually rock hand-me-downs like it's our job and love them so, but Davy is built like a pogo stick and we are having trouble getting things to stay on her little self and look mildly normal.

Plus, that eggplant floor length velvet favorite of hers was starting really show some ugly mom vanity all over me.

1 comment:

  1. I had the same experience at plato's closet last year. I find the way that they tell you that your clothes aren't cool is the worst. Insult to injury.


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