by Debbie Wiens

Created on: May 16, 2008

There are some phrases that just should never come out of a mother's mouth. "Don't stand on your brother's head!" "Untie him, right now! I'm not going to tell you AGAIN!" "Cat's don't like to be in your toy kitchen's oven. Yes, I'm sure." Unfortunately in my two decades of parenting, each of these, and many, many more, has slipped, jumped, or exploded from my mouth at one time or another.

Parenting, with all it's glamor and mystique - - oh, who am I kidding!?! Parenting is a hard job, but fortunately, God has a sense of humor and blesses us with little breaks from the mundane, hectic routine to help us keep our wits about us. Little diversions, words or wisdom, or reality checks that help us remember that their eyes are always watching, and their ears are always on.

An elderly woman once complimented my now 14 year old son when he was 4 or so, saying: aren't you a little cutie pie" to which he replied in all seriousness: "God made me cute so my mommy wouldn't kill me!" Try explaining where he must have heard THAT from. Of course he couldn't help himself it was his brother who was standing on his head.

My daughter, at the age of 4, while I talked on the phone proceeded to calmly come to me with a small stack of blankets, hand them to me and turn and walk back to her room. Upon inspection I saw that they were charred on one side actually burnt partially through several layers of the material. As my adrenaline rose, I calmly told my mother I would have to call her back. Apparently the little darling had decided to make a tent, using her lamp as the tent pole. Of course the lamp had to be on - - it was dark in there!

I am not much of a drinker, but I have had my occasional night on the town. After such an evening with a girlfriend of mine, while Dad kept the kids, I had drank way more than I should have and had the headache to prove it. I awoke to the sounds of my youngest giggling wildly from his crib. I walked, or stumbled, down the hall to my boys' room to see what was going on. My husband was in the living room, I believe. The sight that I beheld looking in the door froze me to the spot. My foggy, hung over brain took a minute or two to register exactly what it was I was looking at. It appeared as if the room was covered with black snow or something. Confusion left me speechless for a moment or two. But eventually reality brought clarity, and with my blood began to surge to my already throbbing brain. My middle son stood in the middle of the bedroom. He was

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