Momma was complaining last night about how mistreated she is. I told her that I had a blog post in my head that would make her feel better. She said that I was just sucking up. But I really am not!
First of all, I would like to think that she does feel appreciated. We are all so grateful to have her in our lives. Everyone in the family will readily admit that Mom is the glue that holds this operation together! Bless her heart, her life is pretty much all about worrying about all of us. From Lucas and his doctor's appointments to Mimi and her doctor's appointments to making sure Poppy takes his medicine to keeping up with all of Daddy's travels and meetings. Then there is me and the kids who packed up and came bombing in on her. Everyone says "She must love having y'all there!" I am sure that she does enjoy getting to spend time with the kids and hang with me more than when we are farther away. BUT she also gives up a lot - not the least of which is control of her time, her home, her life.
Ever since David and I were married, we have listed mom's address as our home of record. In the army, you have to have some sort of permanent address. For us, this address is also Momma's address. We are registered to vote here, her address is on our car registrations and our driver's licenses, and we usually get mail here at least once or twice a week. But now me, 2 kiddos, a dog, cat, and 2 fish are actually trying to LIVE here. Yikes!
She says (and I believe her) that she is so happy that we all feel so comfortable here. And we do. David even feels like this is another home now. The kids feel as content and relaxed here as anywhere. I think we all see it as a constant in our ever-changing military lives. Lucas's old room has become the kids' room. Mom has bought princess sheets and thomas sheets for their beds. Ever since they were born, she has always had everything they needed. When we came to visit, she had formula, bottles, juice, snacks, diapers, wipes, you name it. The woman even bought a brand new crib when I was pregnant with Jessa!! She saved the highchair from when Lucas and I were babies. It was wooden and so cool, and she had it all clean and prepared when the kids were ready for it.
Now that we are staying with her for an unknown amount of time, I truly believe that she is a saint. Her house in no longer her own, her time, her life, it is all intertwined with ours. And we appreciate it more than she will ever know. Our continually transient life is made so much easier by having a safe haven where we can always go and be at home, no matter where our home happens to be at the time - or in this case, when we are between homes. . .
We have officially taken over! Coloring books, trains, doll houses, shoes, CUPS, toys, clothes, barbie shoes, backpacks, you name it! We have even converted the whole downstairs into a play room to try to contain them. The guest room is full of things the movers would not take, oh, and it is also Stewart's room! Even the cat needs his own space. . .
To make my case for my mother's saintliness, here is some photographic evidence of what Keys can do to your house:
I am planning to include these in the application I send to the Vatican. Wait, can Methodists even be Saints?THANK YOU MOMMY!