I rented Mom’s Night Out to watch this afternoon. I have been waiting FOR-EV-ER to watch this movie and was so excited that the Redbox up the street had it in stock. I had envisioned a quiet afternoon, chilling in the basement with the oldest and the babe while the middles played outside. I brewed a fresh pot of coffee and grabbing some trail mix, the toddler, the baby gate and a cuppa I headed downstairs and pushed play. Within the first ten
minutes I was crying with laughter.
I know, I know, they ALL say that. But sister, it’s true. From the struggling mommy blogger to the dancing diva. And I can’t tell you how comforting it was to see some one on the not-so-big-in-my-basement-screen freaking out over salmonella. (see hubbs, I’m not crazy) There were just so many things in this movie I could relate too: the battle to get to church, the feelings of not being a good enough mom. The guilt of saying no, taking on too much, a crazy house, etc. I swear they’ve been listening in at my house.
Then it got real, y’all.
The middles? You know, the ones peacefully playing outside? Well they came in. I was listening for the chaos upstairs. I was expecting it. Waiting for it. But I wasn’t expecting the smell. Yes, let your mind simmer on that a minute. The smell. Oh there are just so many options of what it could be, aren’t there?
Wafting through the air in a cloud of white that instantly brings to mind nurseries and baby behinds is baby powder. Only it’s not just in the air. Its all up the stairs. On the door. Down the hall. And as I make my way to X-Man’s bedroom I find more. On top of everything both he and the babe own, which has of course been dumped unceremoniously out of any containers and onto the floor in a makeshift fort of white powder mayhem. White powder still flitting through the air and catching on the rays of sunlight filtering in through the window.
I took a few moments before I had what the movie so lovingly referred to as a moment. I gathered them and told them that they would be picking up the room and putting it back in perfect order. Dinner was on the line and bedtimes were raised up a notch. It was 4 in the afternoon, we would be eating at 6. They could join us when finished. Then I turned and calmly went back downstairs, where the babe was now screaming M&M colored tears because he’d been devouring the candy from the trail mix and I had left his sight. The oldest looked at me with a raised brow and asked “Do I smell baby powder?”
I didn’t answer. I sat down and hit the play button, only to realize there was more scent in the air, the kind that typically precedes baby powder. Sigh. After changing the babe and watching a bit more of the movie there came a deafening slam from the upstairs, followed by the cry of Lil’ Girl. I raced up the stairs, noting the specs of white, and raced to the boys’ bedroom where I found her in a puddle on the floor.
Puddle? You ask? Why yes dear reader, a puddle. Here’s why: instead of picking up everything on the floor and THEN wiping up the baby powder off the pergo, they decided, in their seven year old infinite wisdom, to get a hand towel from the bathroom, soak it, and “mop” up the mess. Well, to top things off, running through the standing water on the floor sounds like a great idea too, doesn’t it? Sigh.
So I calmly picked her up, stood her upright and we went over the logic behind the towel and water. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea? Maybe not. I reminded them again about dinner and bedtime and went back downstairs to finish the movie. By the time I had come back upstairs and started dinner, they were chilling’ on the bed, nothing cleaned up. By the time we were sitting down for dinner, they were wailing in the back bedroom. After the babe’s bath, they were asking if any dinner was left. And 7 minutes before bath time, they were sitting in their seats at the table, scarfing down their bowls of taco soup. X-Man even managed seconds.
It’s amazing what you can do when you want to, isn’t it?
So, Mom’s Night Out? It’s the gospel truth, kids. But the best part is the ending. This is hard work that we do. And we all have our moments. But my favorite line of the whole thing is when Allyson (the main character) is told that God wouldn’t give her those kids if he didn’t think she could take care of them. That’s something I think we mammas need to remember. Even when we don’t feel like enough. Because we are. Even if we only have four followers or fifty followers or no followers at all. We are enough. You are enough. And that’s the most important thing of all.