SING, the cartoon, and the blubbering mother in the middle of the Polish theater

Sing_(2016_film)_poster

*Image from Wikipedia*

Oh my blubbering goodness.  You would have been DYING had you been in the theater with me for the movie SING that has recently been in theaters (at least in Poland).   Laughter.  Snotting.  Chortles.  Gasps.  Tears.  All directed at me-the mother sobbing uncontrollably over a children’s cartoon.

It is currently a very gray and cold season in Poland.  When the sun comes out, which is extremely rare these days, Max has to ask, “MOM!!!!  What is the sun made out of?!”  And Josephine, “Mom, WHAT IS THAT?!”

NOT KIDDING.  She literally just asked the other day.  I had to explain it was not the moon, it was the actual sun gracing our presence for a moment.

So it’s gray.

Then it’s also cold.

Not -20 F or C.  But it’s been hovering in the 20s and early 30s.  Obviously that’s F.  In C, it’s been about -7 to 0 C.

On top of all of that, Josephine and MOMMY were both so sick this last week.  She ran a fever for about 7 days, and my head felt as if it was stuck literally in a bucket of sand.  I can’t recall the last time I felt so horrible.

So, needless to say, last week, we were mostly at home.

To make up for a week stuck at home where TV became the literal mother to my children for 24/7, I decided to start going on small daily adventures with Max and Jo.

Yesterday we went to an indoor Botanical Garden.  It was okay.  Nothing too thrilling, but also warm and had plants and fish and turtles and birds.  The vines hanging from ceiling to ground inspired many monkey calls, and we screeched right along with the parrots.  So what is merely a “Meh” place came to life with my Littles in their imaginations, making it a grand adventure.

Max and Jo have wanted to see the cartoon SING ever since their sister, Adelyne, told them all about it.

So, today I decided to leave the house for an early morning showing of SING.

What fun!  Of course, the cartoon is in Polish, but both of my children don’t seem to mind; therefore, away we went!

The movie—it’s AMAZING.  I loved it.  It did not go in the direction that I thought it would — now, mind you, I did not see a single preview for it, but I imagined a much more American Idol direction once the fliers were printed and sailed around town…

It was much more somber than that.  Hardships and struggles and overcoming were quietly being dealt with throughout the movie.

While fears were being squelched, dreams were also simultaneously being shattered.

And then everything literally falls apart.

Nothing went at all like I had expected.

Well, let me not ruin it for any of you that have yet to see SING.  Let me just say, when there came an opportunity for the momma pig to sing, her husband and children watching, I literally began to BAWL.

Not quiet and pretty tears.

I was literally bawling.  I was snotting.  I had to TAKE OFF MY GLASSES and wipe away the waterfall of tears.  I could not stop.

The mother—performing in front of her husband and children.  The mother giving it everything she had.  The mother LIVING out her dream.  And doing it to the BEST of her ability.

The mother taking a risk.  The mother — EXCELLING.

Yes, dear people out there.

A mother cartoon pig singing and dancing.

It was too much for me.  I am afraid I cried literally ALL of my mascara off my lashes.  My blue eyes turning as crystal as the Carribbean’s waters, as they always do when I cry.

To me, this momma pig, she was so much more than an entertainment figure for the little minds.  She was the mother in each and every one of us.

The mother stuck in the mundane routine of washing dishes, cleaning clothes, feeding children, working sunrise to sunset.

She was the mother that danced and sang to herself and dreamed in her own imagination.

She was the mother that put absolutely everyone and everything above the very core of her being.

She IS the epitome of that very word MOTHER!

I have been feeling like that momma pig.  At home.  Stuck.  In a sink of bubbles.

And, then, there I was at the theater with these two miraculous littles that I had to physically fight to bring into the world, and I realized that they are the ultimate dream.

I fought SO LONG and SO HARD to even conceive children.  And then to get them to enter the world safely was another journey.

I grabbed my son’s hand and held it.  His heart beating because my body grew him.  His life living because God gave him to me for another day.

Being a woman is hard.  Being a mother is hard.  Making satisfaction in our souls as both is hard.

And this momma pig brought this pit into my stomach that there lies within each and every one of us a fire and a passion outside of ourselves and our families.  Yet, while we are momma to littles, sometimes those other dreams may be put on the side.

But it doesn’t mean they are squelched.

It just means that our priorities are directed differently—straight.

In the meantime, someday is out there where it will be our turn to sing and dance.

And make our littles proud!

Momma, have you ever traveled alone???

Listen, I know the appropriate answer in ALL of our mommy lives is THAT OUR CHILDREN ARE OUR GREATEST BLESSINGS!

Therefore, Pinterest and Facebook and Instagram and LIFE itself was created (of course, exaggerating on ALL of the above) for T.H.E.M.

But when you are a mommy—you FEEL as if you MUST only be mommy.

100%.

All the time.

Because, by golly, you created THAT life—you can just as easily TAKE IT AWAY (oops—wrong tangent).

No, really…You feel this gut need to be there 24/7 plus all of those hours in between that in mommy hood REALLY DO EXIST!

I know.  Because I have been a mommy for 10 and a half years.  And in the years that I have been a mommy, I have had, literally just today, A TOTAL OF 2 weeks WHERE I HAVEN’T HAD A CHILD IN MY PRESENCE since my firstborn was, well, BORN.  (And those words do deserve ALL CAPS)

That’s 365 x 10 plus 6 months which equals approximately 3,830 days where life has NEVER EVER EVER EVER been about a single moment of me since.  Now, take away the 14 days where I have been a mommy BUT not in the presence of a single child that was mine equals 3,816 days.  Forget the fact that I am Facetiming them about 2 times a day—they are not hanging on to my shirttails, so it is still deemed “free”.

Ladies—There is something utterly overwhelming about that number.   And, if you’re sanctimonious, spare me the comments, because that’s a crap load of LOTS of time dedicated to little people.  Enough of a load to make you go just a WEE BIT insane.

And, even though, I am suppose to be in ARIZONA with 1/3 of my little people right now, I wound up here (due to an expired passport) ALL ALONE.

At first I was like, what do I do???

At first it was like—lie in bed.  Don’t feed anyone.  Take a long shower.  Get coffee.  Sleep.

A little boring—because, after all, children do make our lives FUN!

But the more days I have been relaxing here, the more I have realized that I have needed this.

This moment.

To NOT be constantly thinking about scissors and rocks and crying babies and wiping my son’s bottom to save my laundry load from streaks later…

This moment.

To not be picking stuck boogers out of the littlest nostrils and convincing the oldest that it is her SWORN duty to play with the littles for ONE HOUR of the 24 WAKING HOURS she has in her day so that I can sit and stare mindlessly into a dirty house.

This moment.

To not be cutting crust off of bread—whichever parent invented that method of sandwich preparation—remind me to KILL YOU LATER, because, for some reason, my children KNOW it and CAN’T eat sandwiches with crust.

This moment.

To realize that my house is probably the aftermath of the storm—but I am ALONE in my bed without physically seeing the dirt and grime and toys and laundry—so I am SAFE FROM THE STORM!

And the longer I am apart from my Tasmanian devils, the more I appreciate being their mommy.  It’s like that Christmas chocolate you get that you put up high to only have a piece every once in a while because you want to make it last…NOT SAYING THAT I’LL STUFF MY KIDS UP HIGH SOMEWHERE SO THEY’LL LIVE (or am I????).

Simply saying—this moment of being without kids is allowing my haggard body, soul, and mind to reboot.

So I can go back and live 24/7 for another 3,816 days—upon which they will all be out of the home and I will be SOBBING for the days of insanity.

#truth

#nuttynuttytruth

To end…my advice for you, mommies, out there.  Maybe take a break from day 3,173 and go somewhere without kids and just lie in bed, be bored, drink coffee, shower, and reboot.

It’s totally worth it.

And, don’t worry, the house will be a disaster upon your return—as if you NEVER really left in the first place.  BUT OH YOUR SOUL WILL KNOW THE TRUTH!

And that truth will let you live on!

Power on, Mommy—and travel alone!!!!

 

 

 

When sanity restoration begins and you already start crying…

I have been LONGING…literally LONGING for sanity for the last several years while my head has been spinning wildly in all directions except on.

And then it happened two days ago.  I took a shower—door unlocked, of course and open, while the two littles were awake and propped in front of the TV.

The thing is…I didn’t rush.  I washed my hair.  Shaved my legs…both don’t normally happen in the midst of my “ARE THE KIDS TURNING ON THE OVEN AND BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE AND RUNNING WITH SCISSORS” showers that normally take place.  One definitely has to go.  Mostly the shaving legs.  Good thing I live in Europe 😉

It was amazing.  And I didn’t feel stressed.  I occasionally would shout out, “ARE YOU OKAY????”  To which they would respond, “We’re OKAY!” And then I would enjoy the next moment of sanity…

And just as I was beginning to get nostalgic for the moments when I had to worry and live in paranoia with the “I CANT LIVE WITHOUT MOMMY” seconds that occupy my every waking moment, two littles come running in shouting, “I WANNA SHOWER WITH MOMMY!!!!!”

Clothes are stripped.  Diapers are stripped.  And I finish rinsing my hair just in time to hop out and throw two naked bottoms in—albeit crying naked bottoms—saying stuff like, “BUT I WANNA SHOWER WITH YOU, MOMMA!”

And as much as I enjoyed my freedom and sanity for those 5 minutes in the shower—I enjoyed hearing those words even more.  Because those were the longest 5 minutes of my life—knowing that my sanity was on its way to being restored—and freedom would soon again be mine.

The freedom I have been screaming for the last many years—is on the horizon—and now I’m so sad about it.

MOMMYHOOD.

Man it’s a crazy conundrum of nonsensical emotions that keeps me screaming, crying, laughing, hugging, or spinning.

AND I WANT THEM ALL TO STAY THE SAME…

Yet I want to shower in peace, too.

Sometimes there is clearly no winner in the mom game 😉

So Forty!

nunsintorun

Like I am so overwhelmingly 40 that someone could write a book about 40 based upon my life.

I bloat—and automatically 3 people ask if I’m pregnant.

I say—“No.  I am not pregnant.  Just 40.”

One kind man looked confused and said, “Thirty?”

And I said, “No, 40…And I am not having any more  (bold and underline this, please) children.”

He went on to tell me I still have time for one more…

I went on to tell him a thing or two…(Okay—nice things 😉 ).

I have two small kids and a 10 year old.  The ten year old is an angel because she can shower and brush her teeth all alone.

The others—it’s like, “What’s that?  You need to go on the toilet AGAIN????  Aren’t you still in diapers??????????”  And then I remember that he is officially 4.  So I follow him into the toilet and wipe his little bum after he goes number 2.

The last is like “NOOOOOOO!!!!!!  I do it!”  And if you enter her presence without her permission, she is like “THIS IS MY ROOM!!!!!!”  And if she was not so RIDICULOUSLY the cutest thing walking this earth, it would just not be so cute (smile smile wink wink)  Okay, okay…It’s pretty typical 2 and cute.

And then there are those that days that my little son brings me cookies and I ask, “Did you eat lunch?” And he’s like “No, my tummy is not hungry for food.”  So I open his cookies and send him on his way just so that I can have a spare moment alone to eat my own cookies.

Friends…I am SOOOOO 40!  Beyond, totally 40.

And while I mostly handle it fine—I realize that the babcia in me is starting to sneak out (grandma for those that don’t know what babcia means)…And then I realize that these are not my grandkids but my kid-kids.  I am suppose to be MONITORING their sugar intake —NOT increasing it 😉

Oh me oh my oh my oh me!!!!!

I am Brooke.  And I.AM.FORTY.

Can I take a nap, please?????

Momma Beast Mode


This is called 250 pounds of coal post coffee this morning.

What a Momma will do for her family, eh?

#mommabeastmode #heatedhouse #warmbabies

But let’s not stop there…then I obviously needed to shower—so my littlest asked to join me.

Why not?  I’m a good momma…

As my littlest then proceeds to poop in my shower.

You saw my photo, right?  If anyone needed a shower—it was me.

But now there is poop.

Just as it gets cleaned up, my middle then decides to jump in.

Momma beast mode went away—momma desperate for clean mode just wanted to come out to play 😉

In the end, I got clean.  Kids got clean.  Shower got clean.

And we have heat.

Chalk one up for a good #mommabeastmode day.

***

In case you missed the video earlier, here is the #mommabeastmode at work.  Enjoy!

https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fbrooke.h.nungesser%2Fvideos%2Fvb.729244049%2F10154075004344050%2F%3Ftype%3D3&show_text=0&width=560

 

That famous mantra “Silence is Golden”??? So NOT true when you have toddlers.

DSC_0715

What’s that famous mantra again that we use in our homes or classrooms or out in public “Silence is Golden”???

Yeah.  That is just such a falsehood when it comes to raising mischievous toddlers.

My husband…the dear old man (okay—39 is only old to children)…is off again.

It happens frequently in my life if you have been following this blog from it’s origin.

Anyhow—he is leading a men’s retreat this weekend.  Now, mind you, he barely returned home Monday night.

Therefore, he was technically home for 4 glorious days.

When I say glorious, you should understand that means busy and crazy and two of those nights he was gone as well—but he bathed the kids in between his few hours at home 😉

And I really don’t mind.

But tonight as I am trying to put new sheets on my toddler number 1 bed because he soiled his sheets this morning—I have toddlers 1 and 2 (so they are Josephine age 17 months and Maxwell age just now 3) playing with his electric and awesome train set.  Easy peasy because the trains shall babysit—right????

So I leave the two toddlers and begin to arrange for my 9-year-old to get in bed as well.

Brush teeth?

Check.

PJs?

Check.

All your clips from your dance recital out of your hair?

Check.

Bed made and ready for entrance?  Radio adventure on?  Disco light dancing?

Check; check; check.

That’s when it hit me…

It was TOO electric train silent!

So Adelyne and I run to the toddlers room (shared room) and discover not a single minion in there.

Where to go next?

It’s a small home, so it’s not too hard to follow the noise—but there was no noise.

Turns out the little devils found their way into the bathroom.  Our bathroom is also our laundry room.

And a small (yet large when your husband is out of town and you are so tired because you have already changed soiled bed sheets from toddler oldest and cleaned up puke in the car from toddler youngest today as well as cleaned out a poopy potty training toilet and changed the Mt. Everest of stinkiest diapers in the world today—and that’s coming from a woman who literally lives only 100 meters from an actual pig farm—STINKY)…

Oh, let me get back to the story—

A small but LARGE snowball fight of laundry soap was taking place.

Lots of THROWING high in the air and then a mad dash away with giggles.

The next would run in and overtake the laundry box and grab a handful and throw, dash, and giggle.

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Why oh ye little monsoons???  WHY?

I run in all mommy-threatening like.

Yet they don’t respond.

How is that possible?

I totally scare myself at times.

My husband cowers.

My eldest runs for cover.

These Littles…Perhaps they realize that I am too old.  They literally have no fear.

So I catch the closest—my son!  I whisk him into his room, finish putting on his pajamas, he’s yelling, “NO!  It’s WAKE TIME!  WAKE TIME!”  as I begin tossing him (literally) in bed, so I can scamper quickly off to catch the other rebel.

She squeals and tries to dart away.

Man!  That girl is getting fast!

I grab the chub and gently (after all, she is my baby ;)), toss her in bed—turn on her light song music thing and her giraffe cuddle thing and give her the one million blankets she sleeps with at night—

I kiss them both in this hurry before they begin to BAWL kiss-y way and pray silently in my head while mad dashing out the door with a BAM (slamming my hand on the light switch) and actual SLAM of the door … drowning out any tears and sobs that might ensue with my super mommy “I Don’t Hear Nothin'” ears on.

Now to the 9-year-old.

You would think she would be easy, right?

So wrong.

“Ow!  I have a bruise.  I need ice on my foot.  I need ice to eat as well.  I can’t hear my radio drama.  Can I read???”

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

So proud of you for your dance recital today.

I will get you ice—NOT for your bruise.  You will survive.

No, you can’t read.

Yes, you can read in the morning IF you get up early.

No, I won’t leave the light on for you.

Yes, you must go to sleep.

Dear Jesus, pray, pray, pray…

DASH down the stairs—get a cup of ice—dash up the stairs…THROW ice cubes at her (just kidding).

Kiss on forehead and RUN out of room before 1 million questions begins again.

SLAM second door of the night.

Start more poopy laundry from daughter’s diaper explosion (second round of poopy laundry for the day—I HAVE mentioned that, right???)…

Run downstairs.  GRAB Coke (not the drug) and chocolate.

Serenity now????

We shall see, my friends.  We shall see.

After all, I still have NO gate and 3 dogs literally tied up to the trees outside—I have yet had the energy for their evening walk and to bring them in.

Perhaps they will stay tied to the tree tonight?

Or will they chew through their leashes and run away?

How much crying can I handle in the morning???

Who knows, but as I type this there are 3 sleeping kids and I must say that mantra is kind-of true, “Silence is Golden” (as long as kids are sleeping).

Mom…

100_0481

mom…i didn’t understand you, until i became you.

and now i don’t just appreciate you, i admire you more.  love you more.  and can never seem to learn enough from you.

you taught me to love.

to forgive.

to say i’m sorry.

to accept others.

to give.

you helped us live through laughter.

through creativity.

through giving.

you put others first.

you never complain.

and you are always there when we need you.

mom, words will never be enough, and so i’ll leave you with a simple wish…

i wish you continued beauty and grace.

love and laughter.

cuddles and kisses.

i wish you every bright and shining memory of a gloriously-gifted life.

a healthy countenance.

and joy in your children and our children…

and one day their children.

mom, i wish you a day to be celebrated for being the greatest woman in history.  or, at least, my history!

i love you, mom.

happy birthday!