The Mom Chronicles

With every chronicle of life there is a lesson learned to get us through the next one. It's no different for us moms.

I have a huge confession that will probably appall my fan base. It's something that is going to cause gasps and whispers. I'm pretty sure at the next booster club meeting I might be shunned, but here it is.

I don't really like Starbucks coffee.

I know it goes against everything I'm stereotyped as. I have the messy bun, the SUV that carpools kids across two counties, and I do enjoy a pumpkin spice latte on a cool morning. Just not Starbucks.

I am that mom that savors that moment right after all the kids are dropped off at school, when the sun is beating down on my Ford Explorer as I sit contently in my driveway for thirty minutes doing nothing but sipping my coffee and enjoying the solitude of nothing. It is a happy place for me before the chaos of chronicles hit again.

I think of coffee like wine or beer. There are people who are connoisseurs that really know what good coffee is. I consider myself a coffee connoisseur and possible a French fry connoisseur. However, that's a blog for another day.

Good coffee shops have artists instead of baristas. Their sole purpose in life is to make sure your coffee is good enough to keep you sane throughout the entire day with one grande cup. Most of those franchise coffee places just can't cut it. Starbucks is the worst. I have been to many and when I say they very seldom get my order correct, I mean that in earnest. If I am paying almost six dollars for a cup of coffee, it better be correct.

I've heard the term "White Girl Coffee", thrown around and it may be offensive to some, but it's relatively true. If you don't believe me, drive by any Starbucks shop at 8AM the first day that they bring back the Pumpkin Spice for the fall. You will see what I mean.

I prefer the local shops. I had one that I loved when I lived in New Albany, MS called The Coffee Addict. I actually wrote most of my first novel sitting behind it's cozy doors. A few years ago it closed and I moved away.

In my new town of Hattiesburg, MS. Java Moe's is what's up in the coffee world. This morning I got my XL Pumpkin Spice for $1 off because it's flavor of the week and paid less than $6 including the tip. I'm still sipping it as I write this.

My second favorite here is actually a chain. I know I'm already contradicting myself, but it's Joe Muggs inside Books A Million. The baristas that work there is what makes it great. They go out of their way to make the coffee perfect for you. I think maybe the smell of books makes the coffee better. It's a happy place for me as well.

If you are used to just driving through to get your white mocha vanilla soy latte with extra cream, sacrifice a little of your time you will have when your sitting in your driveway in solitude to go in a local shop and place your to go order. I promise your moment of solitude will be worth every second to stand in line.

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Netflix and Chill

The other night I was lying in bed snuggling with my four year old, my one year old, and my husband while watching a movie in my bed. The following conversation transpired.

Me: I love this. I'm laying here with all three of my boys.
Dubba: Yea, the ones that love you and the ones that don't.

Of course my husband and I fell into a fit of laughter because he's four and it was funny. Sometimes however that's not the case. Sometimes that's exactly what parenting is like.

As parents, we all know that there are times that we are not friends with our children. There are more times than not that we are downright seen as the horrible Bandersnatch's that control every move. We know that we try to do right by our children and even if they scream that they hate us at the top of their lungs we tell them it's ok, because we will love them enough for the both of us.

You might be that parent that raised perfect little angels, that never backtalk or misbehave. If you are one of those people, hats off to you. You have been blessed with luck that is incomprehensible. I suggest you play the lottery every chance you get.

You might also be the parent that THINKS your that parent, only to be the laugh of the town as everyone except you knows that your kid was out drinking two counties over with the rough crowd that you would never approve of.

I personally fall into category number three. The realistic parent that is so open minded, sometimes I assume the worst of my kids because I was a horrible child myself and I just assume they are doing what I would have done.

So far, I'm actually quite impressed with how my older children have turned out. It shocks me quite often. Granted, I have yet to have a doctor or lawyer in the family. Although, those are admirable career choices, I didn't give my children names like Toni, Merlyn, Serenity, Liberty, Arwen, Garriant, and Ranger, just so that they could conform and become sheeples.

 I wanted them to break the stereotype roles. I wanted them to be themselves and make their own path. I didn't want them to do what the rest of the world does, because let's face it, the rest of the world isn't trying very often these days to make the world a better place. If I could teach my children the difference between what is right and what is wrong and be able to feel it in their heart the difference instead of relying on what so and so says is right or wrong, then I have conquered two thirds of my parenting goal.

Teaching children how others should be treated is a prime example of such. Teach them to love themselves as well as love people and places and respect it all.

Don't get me wrong there will be times that you are tested as a parent and you want to throw your arms up and yell at the top of your lungs for them to just do whatever they want. The other times you are going to firmly stand your ground and defy their defiance. They may slam doors, hate you, become silent, and storm off. That's ok too. They will eventually get over it and when those few years are over they will love you for it.

In the meantime, snuggle up in bed with a good movie and fight over the covers. There are worse things to raising children than who gets the biggest pillow.


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