If I should die young(ish)

My mom passed away at 42. 42 years old. Obviously this was a defining moment in the path of my life. I was 15 years old. My brother was only 10. Right up till her last breath she was thinking of my brother and I and where we would be after she wouldn’t be here with us and now as a mom I think of all the other things she probably worried about.

That’s about as short as I can tell that part of my life and I say it to get to this. I have a weird anxiety thing about death and dying. Step in to my crazy for a minute…

Because she and my father both passed away younger than average I have this constant little voice in my head saying “what if you died?” It’s taken me many years to get to where I am in my life and I can honestly say it’s not that I’m depressed (maybe just under medicated), I’m truly not. I am very blessed with a wonderful husband, three beautiful and healthy children, more amazing friends and family than I can count, a church family that we love, a business I enjoy, a home, cars, food, health, etc. I am blessed and I am truly happy.

But it’s always in the back of my head.

To make matters worse, I went to college for Forensic Biology. So I learned about death and dying and freakish ways people have died… I’m weird, I get it. Humor me.

This all being said I have some concerns for my family if I should pass on earlier than the typical life span. I feel confident that family and friends will be willing to help with meals, rides, etc. I am concerned about everyday stuff. The little things.

This struck me while I was searching in the medicine cabinet for something for an unnamed adult in my house. He asked, “do we have any Tums?” To be fair, it’s not actually a cabinet it’s a closet and there is a lot (Read: twelve tons) of stuff in there and they were behind a few (Read: a million) other things. But there they were, right where they should be.

“Mom, where’s my IPad?” Plugged in to the wall, right where it should be.

“Mom, where is my favorite stuffed animal I sleep with?!?” In your bed, right where it should be.

“Where are the babies socks?” In her sock drawer, right where they should be.

Moms have a super power of being able to see the “invisible,” am I right?!?

Let’s paint a picture- Me unloading the van after school. I have the baby on my hip (flailing), my purse (Read: basically a diaper bag), actual diaper bag, preschool bag, a book bag, a water bottle, a baby bottle that’s empty, a baby bottle with just water in it in case we get stranded on 77 at a total stop over the lake (it’s awful but it happens, see photo below), extra formula, snacks, stickers, glitter with an undetermined source, someone else’s shoes, coloring books, and a tent in case we get lost (kidding on that one).

At least the view is pretty even if the soundtrack is scream squealing.

Back to the garage…

Kid 2: “Can you carry my artwork? It’s too heavy.” (It’s a sheet of construction paper but the Oscar worthy performance would lead you to believe it’s a life sized statue made of granite and he needs to be able to carry a Happy Meal Toy with both hands).

Me: “I don’t have any more room to carry…”

Kid 2: “But it’s so heavy…” whine cry meltdown because nap was not taken…

Me: “Ok, can you please just open the door to the house for me?”

Kid 2: Slow motion fall to knees as though I have asked for him to pluck out each hair on his head individually. “Why do I have to do everything?!?”

I do also have concerns for Kid 1’s hair and all of their finger & toe nails will be overgrown and probably start to curl like those people in the Guinness Book of World Records (Is that even still a thing? I mean the book, not the curling nails.)

My home would likely become a toilet paper free zone because the little humans wouldn’t know where the supply is kept. I like to hide it in places like under the bathroom sink, right where it should be.

Who will fill out the permission slips?

Who will set up the birthday wish lists?

Who will compile all the artwork and school papers brought home till an acceptable time has passed and it’s ok to sort out the ones that should be kept, and donate the rest to the “people that don’t have artwork” (Read: recycling bin)?

Who will schedule their Well Checks and also take them and hold their arms while they get their vaccines (the worst but I’ll take it over Epiglottitis any day)?

Who will order new shoes when they grow out of the current ones?

Who will fill out their baby books as they grow (truth time, I’m behind on this, like a whole kid behind. She does have a book and we have taken lots of pictures though)?

Who will answer, “Hey mommy, momma, mom, mom, MOOOOOOM” 8,903 Times each day?

Who will have mom guilt for not getting all the things done everyday?!?

So obviously this is all stuff pretty much anyone could do, but these are a few of my mom duties. Often frustrating, sometimes exhausting, usually laughable, always rewarding.

I feel these are the things my mom and I would laugh about if she were still around and she would say things like, “Ah yes, I remember those days” with a smile.

So, cheers to all the mommas out there! To the step-mommas, flight-mommas, grandmommas, ladies that function as the mommas, soon to be mommas, desperately want to be mommas, mommas of angels, and teachers (because from August to June they do a lot of momma stuff too). Even to the fellas that do all the work of mommas too.

I see you and I heart you! May your families treat you extra special this Mother’s Day (and always, duh).

If something does happen to me (I’m a klutz so after you stop laughing that I some how met my demise while curling my hair or walking in to something) I’m gonna need someone to make a signupgenius for you all to take turns making sure my kids aren’t left sitting in the floor in level 5 meltdown mode because they can’t find their socks. (The blue ones, NOT.THE.AQUA.ONES).

Do me a solid and check the toilet paper rolls too.

Am I the only one that thinks like this?

In the mean time I’ll be here looking for the funny and love in these little mom moments, right where I should be.

Now go hug your mommas.

This photo was last Mothers Day. The day I came home from the hospital as a mom of three.

*I do hide the Reese Cups though, top of the freezer door.*