Two years ago, our family sponsored a child in Costa Rica named Oscar Mario. He was the chosen one for very specific reasons – at the time, our family was a bit light in the boy department so we thought a male would even things out nicely. My eldest son was obsessed with Super Mario, so when we saw a child who had the name Mario, it was clearly a good fit.

The kiddos feel very connected with Oscar Mario – they send him letters and art work, and anxiously await his response. When they are all behaving like spoiled brats, I remind them of Oscar Mario and his life, and they humbly retreat back into humans I am proud to have birthed.

Last year for Oscar Mario’s birthday, our family sent off a package with stickers, cards and Mabel’s Labels. Some months later, it was returned unopened. I did what every good mother does – hid it from the kids and forged a letter of thanks from Oscar Mario.

I had been meaning to reach out to the agency to investigate the returned package. But our monthly donation continued to be withdrawn so I assumed everything was fine. Of course, following up on the package ended up at the bottom of my “to-do” list – tied in last place with about 20 other items.

Last month I got a letter saying we have a new sponsored child because Oscar Mario cannot be located. Not be located?! I started flipping out wondering how he just fell off the radar. Upon investigation, it seems that families commonly relocate without notifying the agency. So my next question was about where my money was ending up if my kid had gone MIA. I was told it went to his community. I do remember signing on and reading something briefly about how the money is distributed locally – I think the sponsored kid thing is more of a sales tactic.

It’s a sales tactic that worked very well on us. I’m pretty sad about losing Oscar Mario. For two years, we’ve been looking at his adorable picture on our fridge. He’s been my “go-to guy” when the kiddos need to be reminded about how privileged they are.

I have actually been putting off telling the kids about our now long lost friend. I’m torn between the truth (that he’s gone!) and telling them that his family won the lottery and Oscar Mario is busy managing his house staff in between private school tutorials and cello lessons. Suggestions welcomed.

When you’ve been changing diapers for almost 11 years straight and you have been pregnant for about 250 weeks, it is fair to make claim to a bit of brain mush now and again. Sleep deprivation can make a mama foggy at times. Going to the grocery store and leaving without the item I went for is a common occurrence. Once, I was driving down the street with a van load of kids and had to pull over for a minute to think. You see, I had forgotten which child was being driven to what activity. When I looked in the rear-view mirror, I noticed one in a soccer uniform so I was able to carry on without actually having to admit anything to the kids.

But there are bigger things that I don’t remember – the things that I did before I had kids.

What did I do in the evenings? What did I start questioning at 4:00pm every day if not “What am I going to feed them?” To remove that daily dilemma from my brain space would leave quite a gap. Along with “feeding time at the zoo”, my evenings consist of organizing homework, packing school lunches and shuttling people to sports and dance classes. If not doing that, what would I be doing? I just can’t remember. Maybe I watched the 6:00pm news. Maybe I had a hobby. Whatever it was, it’s long gone from my immediate memory.

Waking up naturally because my body has had enough sleep.
Actually, I can’t even remember what it’s like to wake up to the sound of an alarm clock. I vaguely remember that sensation of a Saturday morning sleep- in, dozing in and out of lazy slumber, eventually crawling out of bed when it suited me. Yeah, vaguely.

Eating in a civilized fashion.
I can’t remember what it’s like to sit down and eat an entire plate of food without having to get up half a dozen times. What is it like to sit around a table enjoying food and chatter without springing up regularly to fetch things and cut up food on other people’s plates? I’ve been to dinner parties and left without actually having had dinner myself. And I’m told food is normally served hot. Imagine that – it’s actually HOT when served! By the time I get to my food, “hot” would not be a suitable description.

But from what all the weathered mamas tell me, these busy mama days go too quickly and before you know it, they too will become vague memories. So I think for the moment I’ll just clutch onto my cold dinners and hectic evenings for as long as I possibly can.

I sat down to write a nice blog about Daddy-o, because really, he is a fantastic father. But it’s not really my style to write a mushy post about how fabulous he is, so instead I thought I’d talk about how he almost broke the baby this week.

Daddy-o came home from work the other day and joined us all in the backyard. I went inside and started puttering around when suddenly I heard the panicked words of Daddy-o: “oh man….don’t move buddy, just stay right there.” I looked out the window to see my 13-month-old teetering half way up the wooden deck steps looking like he was about to take a step down. Daddy-o was running, but it was too late. Through the window, as if in slow motion, I watched my baby fall down the steps onto the cement patio.

Two initial reactions:
1) I was sick about the big bump on our baby’s head.
2) I was annoyed that Daddy-o thought it was somehow OK to take his eyes off our busy 13-month-old for even a second.

I have a friend who is married to an “absent-minded professor” type. You know how sometimes you’ll put your coffee on the roof of the car while you get in, and then drive away forgetting all about it? When my friend was expecting her first baby, it occurred to her that it would be entirely within the realm of possibility for her husband to do that with a baby in a bucket car seat. She sat her husband down and told him that if he was careless and it resulted in an injured baby, she would never, ever forgive him. She felt bad threatening him with their marriage before the baby was even born, but his absent-mindedness knew no limits. It worked – they have four kids who have survived babyhood.

Daddy-o claims he was just a bit rusty – it has been a couple of years since we had a tippy toddler. It’s easy to forget how quickly they move and we all know that these falls can happen right under our noses. But clearly, he took his eyes of the baby long enough for baby to get across the yard and up the steps. So what is a mama to do? We don’t want to nag our husbands about their supervision skills, but we need to have confidence that our kids are safe.

What is your experience? Does the Daddy-o around your house have good instincts or are you always a little nervous when he’s alone with the kiddos? Have you effectively communicated your concerns, or does he feel like you’re a nag?

In short, do you trust your husband with your babies?

Can you imagine saying something mean to that cute face? I did and it didn’t feel good.

Mornings around our house are always hectic. The other day, my five-year-old woke up excited that the long awaited kindergarten trip to the fire station had arrived. The best part – I was going along as a classroom volunteer. She is a real mama’s girl, so that was a pretty big deal in her little world.

This particular kid is a bit of a fashionista. By dumb luck, our kids ended up in a public school that has uniforms. As such, there is no real discussion about what kids are going to wear to school. However, my fashionista girl regularly express opinions about shoes, sweaters and coats.

On the day of the school trip, the morning was madness. I had to get the kindergarten kid and the three biggies out the door. The baby was screaming for breakfast and the pre-schooler had to get dressed for nursery school. I was under pressure for time since I had to get myself organized in order to be at school on time for the field trip. I handed my kindergarten kid her sweater with instructions to put it on and head out the door for the bus. She started fussing, complaining and carrying on about not wanting that sweater. I snapped. Out of my mouth came something that stopped her in her tracks. I said “If I get any fuss about this, I will not be going to the fire station”. She looked startled and quickly put the sweater on.

I consider that statement to be a perfect example of lazy parenting. Did I really just threaten to take away something so special to her – spending time with me? Did I really just serve up a threat I would not have followed up on? Yep and yep.

Half an hour later I was driving to the school with tears streaming down my face. When I arrived, my daughter’s little face lit up. I gave her a hug and told her I was sorry about the sweater incident and that I wouldn’t have missed the school trip for anything. She laughed and said “I know, mama!”

I’ve still got a lump in my throat as I type this, but I’m trying to remind myself that if my dear, sweet five-year-old can forgive me, maybe it’s time to forgive myself.

Mothers can have bad days – kids misbehave, work gets on top of you, the house is a dump, your husband is being useless, etc. Mothers often tell me that when they are having a bad day, they think of me and they instantly feel better. The chaos in my life provides them with some comfort in those manic mama moments.

But I have to let you in on a little secret: it’s not that bad. In fact, it’s pretty darn good. Sure, I don’t get a lot of sleep and nights out on the town are few and far between, but that’s what I signed up for when I had six kids.

Between my babies, business and blogging, there are quite a few balls in the air. So the question is often asked about how I manage it all. I could go on and on, but since this is a blog and not a book, I’m keeping it short with just a few little things that are firmly entrenched in my brain that help me get through my busy days.

Keep everything in perspective
When things are hectic at Mabel’s Labels and stress is creeping into our lives, my business partners and I look at each other and remind ourselves of this: We are making labels; we are not saving lives. This is not to downplay how seriously we take our business. If a customer has not received labels on time, that is a dire Mabel 911 situation. Should we let it keep us up at night? Probably not. We’re better off engaging in more proactive responses such as finding out what went wrong and changing our system. Fix the mistake, move on and remember: no one died.

Don’t take your kids so seriously
My kids are kids, not projects. Don’t obsess over whether your kids are academically gifted, going to get MVP or be chosen for the competitive dance team. When my kids grow up, they will be like most others – they’ll get a job. They may become teachers, bricklayers, doctors, bus drivers, parents, whatever. Hopefully they’ll have a fulfilling personal life. I want them to be happy and the best people they can be. Stop taking them so seriously and worrying about what they’ll be later, instead of what they are now.

Don’t take yourself so seriously
You’re a parent, not a miracle worker. You’ll make mistakes and feel crappy about it. So learn from it and move right along. Dwelling is pointless. Sometimes as you try to balance all your roles, you’ll notice everything becoming unaligned – several balls you are juggling come crashing down at once. On those days, order pizza, give the kids bowls of cereal for dinner, let them watch too much TV or go to bed without brushing their teeth. I think they will be OK if they don’t have veggies with dinner two nights in a row. No one is going to turn you into the bad mother police for letting the kids eat hotdogs off their laps on the family room couch. While they’re doing that, for goodness’ sake, go get yourself a well deserved glass of wine!

So this Mother’s Day, give yourself an invaluable Mother’s Day gift. A healthy dose of perspective will make you happier than a dozen roses or new pair of earrings ever will.