It was a glorious eighty degrees yesterday. I woke up in a good mood and promised the boys I would take them to the zoo. Grandma and Papaw decided to come along and we all had lots of fun looking at the animals. We watched the sea lions swim and they were amazed by how fast they went. I was soaking up our wonderful day out together.

It was 2:00 when we decided to leave. I knew it was too late for the boys to take a nap. We had missed the nap window but that was okay. I was trying to go with the flow.

Landon called out from the back seat that he wanted to go to the park. I was surprised because I figured they were tired but it was such a nice day that I didn’t want to waste it inside. So off we went to the park. We stayed for an hour. The boys were thirsty so I let them go into the gas station and pick out a drink. They picked sugary juice and I let them have it because I was trying to be nice.

I was thinking about the fact that we had nothing to eat for dinner. So I decided we should go to the store. Are you already thinking about how this story ends?

Overtired kids + sugar + contained in shopping cart = disaster

I have never in my years of parenting had a more horrible shopping experience. It started out fine. We renewed our Costco membership. The cart was big enough for both of them to sit in the front and we wandered around tasting some foods while shopping.

Then Landon wanted out of the cart. And then, of course, Brigham did. I gave in because I did not want tantrums in the store. Suddenly my kids were completely out of control. Running up and down the aisles, screaming at the top of their lungs. I turned my head for a second and Brigham had disappeared! I screamed his name three times before he came out from under the huge stock shelves. I told him that he had to get back in the cart and he started crying uncontrollably. I tried to get a hold of him to put him back in but he straightened his legs and every mom knows that you can’t get a kid in a cart unless he bends his legs. A nice man came over to ask if we needed any help. This was better than the people who were laughing when they walked past me. Yes, laughing. They were laughing at me.

So Brigham was screaming bloody murder and the whole store was staring. It was one of the worst tantrums I’ve seen. I was the mom who could not get control of her kids. I was the mom being judged by the other patrons of the store.

I tried to hurry and get things in the cart but I finally gave up and headed to check out. Brigham and Landon were running in front of me. Brigham fell down and half got run over by my cart and started crying again.

It was a nightmare.

The checkout lines were a mile long and the boys started running circles around me. I told them to stop. I told them to hold onto the cart. But they wouldn’t listen. They were grabbing other people’s groceries. Using potty words. Laying on the floor.

I turned around to grab Brigham and an older woman was pointing at us and whispering to her husband.

I bit my bottom lip to try not to cry.

When we got to the car I scolded them both but all they did was laugh at me. I’m not going to lie. I bawled while driving home. Here we were having such a blast at the zoo. I wanted to do something fun with them on my day off and they don’t even appreciate it. Not one bit.

Sometimes I feel so defeated. Sometimes I struggle so much at being their mother. I try to do right by them but they just don’t listen to me. And I feel like a failure.

I just want to scream, WHEN DOES THIS GET EASIER?!

But I should know by now that it doesn’t ever get easier. It just gets different.

I’m tired. I don’t always enjoy this motherhood gig. I don’t enjoy feeling like I’ve been run over by a truck when all I wanted to do was go into a store and buy something for dinner. Will there ever be a time when my kids will listen to me? Will they ever appreciate the things I do for them?

At the same time I know that my children’s behavior is a direct reflection on me. It was my fault that they were overtired. It was my fault that they had too much sugar. I didn’t really think about those things when we went into the store.

My kids aren’t the bad ones . . . I am.

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I was cleaning during nap time one afternoon. Bend down, pick up a toy, raise up, put it away. Rinse and repeat about a thousand times. When all was in its place I plopped down on the couch with a diet coke and started reading. It didn’t keep my attention long so I looked up and just scanned the room for a minute.

Most of our house is painted builder’s grade beige. I wanted beige. I wanted calming colors that made my house look like Pottery Barn. I had grand plans to place decor all around and fill our walls with fancy paintings and frame galleries. Everything would look clean and inviting and perfect.

Perfect is such a silly word, isn’t it?

Right now our house is filled with toys. Instead of a gorgeous plant in the corner there is an orange drumset. Instead of pretty baskets in our bookshelves there are bins filled with hot wheels.

I look around and I’m surrounded by primary colors. It used to bother me but in that instant I realized it doesn’t really bother me at all anymore.

Because if I didn’t have my boys there wouldn’t be any primary colors. Our house, my life, would only be beige and boring. And who wants to live in a Pottery Barn page anyway? I’d like to live in Oz or in Wonderland or in Sesame Street. It seems like it would be more fun there anyway.

Red, orange, blue, yellow, green, purple, pink. Everywhere I look my kids are there too. Little reminders that I have the amazing privilege and blessing of being a mama.

Nothing is better than that.

The expensive lamps can come out when they leave for college. I’ll appreciate the primary colors in my house for as long as I have them.

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A couple of weeks ago I had my annual gyno appointment. Every woman’s favorite ::said with much sarcasm::

I had some concerns about a lump I was feeling in my breast. So when she started her exam I pointed it out. She immediately said, “Let’s have you get a mammogram right away.”

I don’t know about you but I’ve always been scared of mammograms. The thought of taking off my shirt in a small room and them grabbing me and squashing my breasts into pancakes just didn’t sound all that fun.

But I knew it was important. So I scheduled an appointment. I was very nervous that morning. As I sat next to Naaman filling out the questionnaire the nurse asked me if I wanted a 2D or 3D version. She explained that 3D is better for viewing dense tissue, which my doctor said I have. So I opted to pay a little extra so they could get the best view.

The nurse was so kind. She explained everything that was happening and was very gentle with me. I asked if it would hurt. This is a concern that I think many women have and I also think it’s what keeps them from getting a mammogram, which as I’m sure you all know, can be a devastating decision later on. The nurse said it might be uncomfortable but it shouldn’t be painful.

I held my breath as the machine came together, all the while just hanging out in between. Much to my surprise it didn’t hurt at all! I was surprised that it was so easy!

Within a few minutes it was over. We waited in another room until they came in and said I would also need an ultrasound. They were gentle in the ultrasound as well. Soon enough the doctor came in and gave me the all clear.

She said I should follow up if I feel anything else that seems like a change from the norm. But otherwise, I have a baseline mammogram now and won’t need to come back until I am 40.

Finally, I felt relief. I had peace of mind that everything is okay.

I must admit, in between the time of my annual exam and the mammogram, I became horribly anxious. I pictured the movie Terms of Endearment in my head. What cancer treatment would be like. What saying goodbye would be like.

When we’re faced with these fears it is best to get whatever testing done that is recommended. It is better to know the truth than sit and wonder.

I’m writing this because I thought it might help someone. If you’re scared of a mammogram – don’t be! Yes, there are first time jitters. But it’s an easier process than I ever imagined. I’m so glad I had it done.

Also, I want to stress the importance of monthly self-exams. I always do them. My grandmother died of breast cancer and if she just would have found out earlier she might have lived. If you feel anything that seems strange, see your doctor.

I’m 34-years-old. But it happens. Early detection is your best chance at survival. It’s so easy to ignore problems. But my guess is you’re important to a lot of people. Don’t take any chances.

I’m glad I didn’t.

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