A memory kind of re-lived.

Once, when I was young, my mom left me or my older brother in charge of my little sister and brother. Our baby at that time was Tyler, who had to have been between 2 and 3 years old because he was walking but still in diapers. Mom went churching. It was night time, I'm sure on a school night. We all set about doing our own things, which pretty much meant fighting over which TV shows to watch. At some point we must have called a truce, or a good show came on we all wanted to see, because we sat mesmerized in front of that blasted screen. In my mind's eye I remember my mom coming into the house, and screaming at the top of her lungs "NO! What have you done??!!!" Which was the signal to come out of the TV room and find OUT what we had done, or NOT done while she was away (we weren't incredibly obedient or helpful children, I'm so sorry mom!). We sprinted the 3 yards from the TV room to the kitchen where we saw the source of her scream. Toddler Tyler had found the very large bucket of all purpose bleached flour and had gone to work covering the kitchen floor and cupboards as well as himself with the fine white powder. My mom stood in the doorway, Tyler stood in the flour, and we stood in the entry of both her bedroom and the TV room. She glared. We feared. She stood and stood for what seemed like forever. I knew we were gonna get it.

Mom came toward us, but walked past, into her bedroom. Though my brain began to scream for me to start cleaning up the mess before she came out of her room I was frozen with fear-and with the clear understanding that I had no idea how to clean up the mess without creating more mess (move the baby to the bathroom? no, then the flour is trailed into the bathroom. Sweep up the flour? No, then you just send it flying into the air, leaving flour dust throughout the house...)

Mom came out of her room
Holding her camera
And she took a picture of the mess
and of her baby boy who made it
and then of her older children, who still stood paralyzed by guilt and fear.
then my mom giggled. And sent us to bed.

and I have remembered that moment my entire life since.

and last night when my children ran out in their pajamas and "swam" in the massive mud puddle out back and covered themselves in grass clippings and muddy water (and duck poop-since the ducks had literally been swimming in our puddle all day long) I thought I'd follow her lead.

I sat them all outside
they were frozen with fear
I went in and got the camera
and took this picture.

But the giggle didn't come. In my moment of possible mommy-greatness I just didn't have the laugh-and its haunting me this morning.

But I didn't have a yell for them either. I sent them to the hose to spray each other down, and then to their bathtubs so they could be clean and not just wet. And that was the end of the moment. And I thought the downfall of the memory I could have made for my children to have and to keep about the time when mom saw humor instead of aggravation.

But before they slept, they mentioned how fun it was to play in the puddle. And Brynley even said "thank you" (I'm sure for my not getting mad!).
So maybe that I kept the scream in even though I couldn't let a laugh out was enough to be a memory for them.

Have a happy and healthy weekend. Spiritual enlightenment here.