Satan is a Doo Doo Head….

Novel title, correct?  I believe so. It was a statement I made today, talking to my friend Jacqueline, and she said – that should be the next title to your next blog post.  So Jacqueline, here it is.  I had one amazing, God touched, beautiful, yet sad day yesterday.  But, I also had people carrying the burden where I couldn’t – told my hand where I was weak.  And if you are new to my blog, Sunday is my day.  I live for Sundays.  Shaun loved Sundays.  He loved going to church, family time, football – everything about Sunday to him was precious.  So, I now feel in tune to that – and have the same feeling.
So, I get up this morning – and what do I wake up to?  Fighting.  Tariq and Isabella are going at it like two MMA fighters going for the title.  All we needed was a cage, satin shorts, and weird tattoos.  Nice.  This is the Lord’s Day.  And because, I am mother of the year, – what do I do?  Start yelling.  Because we all know as parents, there is no better way to calm your children, and teach them to talk in calm rational voices, than by yelling at the top of your lungs to be quiet.  (We all know I didn’t say be quiet.  I said “Shut UP!  Are you kidding me!  We are going to church and we need to get ready!!!!!!!!!! Etc. Etc. Etc. ”  Not a great mother moment, but that’s what happened.)  Finally, Krissie, the kids, and me are in the car on the way.  Tariq and Isabella are sitting in complete silence.  Not in awe and wonder of the gorgeous morning, as I wish they were.  Probably thinking their mom is an emotional wreck, and trying to avoid another moment of yelling.  I saw them in the rearview mirror, and I felt horrible.  I apologized for my behavior, but it didn’t excuse theirs.  They apologized too – and I must say  – I was feeling pretty stellar.  Off to church we go.
I get to church, and it is awesome – as always.  Praise and Worship – especially when Mia is singing – phenomenal.  I don’t know what it is about that woman – but she makes me cry when I hear her sing.  Pastor Daniel, amazing.  You don’t wanna miss this series.  Wow.  Whole experience fantastic.  I get the kids and Krissie, we are going to AC Moore to get paint (refer to yesterday’s post) – and then Panera.  The kids have been wanting to go to Panera.  So off we go.
We order, pray, get our food.  All is well… then Jacoby goes into complete and utter meltdown mode.  He is screaming the high pitched scream – for no apparent reason.  I quickly scoop him up and take him outside (I will say here, if you have kids who act insane in a restaurant – do the same.  I hate it when my kid is having a moment of good behavior, and another kid starts freaking out – and then, well, it’s all gone.)  So, I feel like it is time to remove him from the situation.  I am at the Panera in Central Park.  Holding him.  He is crying and I have no clue why.  I believe it has something to do with wanting to squeeze the Go-gurt on his head, that I wouldn’t allow to happen, and therefore – I am evil.  So now, the evil lady who wants him to have no fun, has taken him from the Go-gurt bliss, and is walking him around a hot and humid parking lot in August.  (Good idea on my part here also.)  So what does super mom begin to do?
Cry.  I cry like a spanked school girl.  Holding my crying baby.  Sight to see I am sure.  And I think to myself, to God.  How in the world am I supposed to do this for the next     18 years?  No way.  But as I am having this inner battle, I realize.  It’s not going to be for the next 18 years, maybe 2 of the screaming and you don’t know why.  And I realize, that in those two years, Tariq will be 14.  My first baby will be almost a man. Hmmmm…..  I realize time is fleeting.
So, I know, as a widowed mom to four kids, albeit only three live with me, I am lucky.  Because I have them.  And although Jacoby kirking out in Panera seemed massive at the time, I laugh as I talk about it now.  And if Satan thinks he get me down by making my kid take a fit in Panera, not gonna happen.  I might have got out of sorts, but I will win the war.  No doubt.  I have an amazing God on my side, an amazing husband on my side, and four amazing kids on my side.  Can’t get to me.  You can’t.  So, Satan is a Doo Doo head.  Don’t think you can ruin my beautiful weekend.  By trying to stress me out, you made me realized how blessed I am.  I have so many people who love me, here to help me. My husband might not be here, but I have a family of thousands who will help where he can’t.  I love you all…

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