I have a lot I could say today.

I could talk about the horrible weather we’ve had and the 3 1/2 hours I spent in the car trying to pick up the kiddos and get home on Friday afternoon.

I could talk about having to haul water, bucket by 5-gallon bucket, to the animals all weekend because everything is frozen again.

Or I could talk about the price of foam balls at the craft store and how, for the love of 3rd grade Jupiter modeling projects, please add floral Styrofoam to the school supply list so you don’t have to pay retail at the last minute!

Or I could talk about the casually cruel words of the grocery-store check out lady who didn’t realize that I bought a birthday cake from the grocery store because I had spent 10 hours that day in the truck hauling hay, not because she’s super-mom and I’m slacker-mom.

I could talk about how, next time, I will stage the present-opener more carefully so that all my great pictures don’t have someone awkwardly stuffing cake in their mouth in the background.

Or I could mention the confusion I felt when I discovered that I’m married to a Ninja Power Ranger.

And Penny might want me to mention her confusion when she was sent to her bed for dinner time and suddenly gift bags and tissue paper start raining down on her poor head.

I could write a whole post about how weird I think Legos are becoming. Or I could write about how neat I think City Legos are–and not just because I’m a municipal planner by trade–but because I’m a boy momma that doesn’t think my boys need to be playing with skeleton horses and zombies.

Or we could talk about my baby turning 5 years old…

And how I might not survive this mothering-gig.

Because apparently turning 5 for Speedracer means up-ing the ante around here to 5 temper-tantrums an hour. Or maybe it refers to a temper-tantrum every 5 minutes. Or maybe just to only expect 5 minutes of peace a day.

Whatever the case is, our little guy is giving me a run for my money. I guess I’m lucky he waited this long–the Cowboy started at 3 and I wasn’t sure if either of us were going to survive until he was 5. But he seems to have come out on the other side of it.

So I keep telling myself, in the words of my own momma, “this too shall pass” and reciting my little motherhood life verse from Galatians 6:9 “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”

And momma–if you’re exhausted out there today, and feeling like it’s an uphill fight every day, hang in there. I feel your pain! But we won’t give up! There is a well-mannered, hard-working, gentlemen on the other side of this season! I know it!

And your son will probably have some seriously admirable muscles at the end of it, from all the extra chores he’ll be doing for misbehaving!

Remember, love fiercely and don’t give up!