Venti with a Triple Shot


Recently on a rainy day I met up with some other mama’s at an indoor playground with 7 kids in tow (I only gave birth to 4 of them, the others just appeared in the van) between the ages of 9 and 2.


Some may call me crazy, others may call me brave but my response is always the same… “what’s one more?”

I just ran through Starbucks (told them not to ask for a thing because the answer was no, hey, I was already taking them to play) and asked for a Venti over ice with 3 extra shots of espresso. The lady taking my order said, “are you sure?? It already comes with 3 shots!” I laughed {who is she to question my espresso addiction  habit  consumption….}

So, because my mama raised me right I politely in my very best “bless your heart” voice said “yes, I am very sure”.

When I pulled up to the window with all 7 kids going crazy in the back, I think she realized I knew what I was talking about and that she probably should have kept her barista comments to herself. ** Dear Mr. Starbucks trainer person, please instruct your future Barista’s NEVER to question a mama’s coffee choices. It’s rude! **

Needless to say that after that play date was over, my drink was all gone and my sanity was still in tact … that is why I ordered the extra.

When I had Braxton I was a nervous wreck kinda mama. I questioned all my choices. Worried that I wasn’t doing things like the other mama’s did, reading every book I could get my hands on and calling my mama ALL THE TIME.

Then he got sick, very sick and I realized that I had this natural maternal instinct that a book wasn’t going to teach me to use.

Eventually, he would get so sick he couldn’t move and the house became eerily quiet, there were no toys and no giggles through the house. It was my awakening as a mama. I stopped fussing over the house being exactly put together ALL the time. I let the toys be, I took time to play rather than clean, I took time to listen rather than fuss.

When Zoe came along I was a little more lax. Albeit, I was a germ-a-phobe because of Braxton, but I had a different outlook.

By the time the boys came along, 17 months apart, I threw my hands up in the air and decided to fly by the seat of my pants.

I don’t fuss over the things that don’t really matter a ton. I look at my kids and say “self… do those rugrats, look happy…. yes, they do … well done mama”

So, have a huge cup of whatever gets you through, for some it’s almond milk with some kinda green blended stuff {ugh, I will spare you my facial expressions on that one}, for me it’s a “big gulp” of some sort of strong coffee, at least twice a day, and for some life is rainbows and unicorns and things just flow {to those people I wanna be just like you one day}… enjoy the small things, the clothes they picked out on their own, the Kool-Aid mustaches, sneaking them cookies before dinner. Sometimes have cake for breakfast…. I promise this is a game changer.

Take time to listen, and write everything down {who cares if people on social media think you are annoying}, I know that one day too soon I am going to blink and my babies will not be babies anymore, then I will be bored and living on a single shot.

For now I will enjoy the Venti moments.

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