Motherhood: Powered by Panic, Pets, and Pure Determination

Some days, motherhood feels like a steady rhythm — predictable, manageable, almost peaceful. And then there are days like yesterday, when life decides to stack chaos on top of chaos just to see if you can still stand upright.

Picture this: I’m already juggling the usual circus — three teenage sons, a husband, five dogs, one cat, one tortoise, and two birds... and trying to find time within that chaos to write, edit, proofread, and publish my books. The house is its normal level of “lived in,” which is a polite way of saying I’ve given up pretending I control anything here. However, with #SpringCleaning out of the way — which I was in turbo‑decluttering‑mode for — it’s fresh and clean in here... as long as I keep up with my daily #MomChores.

So, back to yesterday... my cat — all 17 pounds of that chunker... fluffy, stubborn, escape‑artist of a cat — decides today is the day he’s going to make a break for it. Out the door he goes, trotting down the road like he's tired of paying the mortgage. So now I’m doing my best to chase after him, yelling his name like a deranged Disney princess who’s lost her sidekick... you'd understand that part better if I told you his name: Tarzan (yes, he climbs walls and columns and yowls in the middle of the night like a cute, fluffy, ebony mass of lunacy... hence the name).

As I finally catch up to the rogue fluffy butt, that’s exactly when my phone rings.

It’s the doctor... well, the pediatrician, to be precise.

The abdomen X‑ray results are in, and my 16‑year‑old son has a kidney stone. We're not talking a tiny thing here either — we’re talking the type that motivates the doctor to throw words like "laser" and "surgery" around. I can't lie; I freaked out. Which freaked the cat out. Which means I have the scratches to prove he was resisting arrest.

So now I’m standing in the middle of the road, bleeding and holding a squirming, offended, 17‑pound feline bowling ball of fluff, trying to listen to medical instructions while also not dropping the cat or my sanity.

Apparently, I needed to "IMMEDIATELY" get to my son, make him sit as still as possible, and contact a urologist. So, I rush home — cat in arms, heart racing — to lock up the house and get my son to the doctor for further examination. I’m moving fast, grabbing keys, turning off my oven (the lemon pound cake was ruined, by the way), moving fans and closing windows (because of course my A/C is broken, and the technician should arrive at any moment), grabbing my bag… and in the chaos, I forget one tiny, crucial detail:

I... Me... the MAMA — coordinator of all things chaotic — did not put the dogs in their crates 🤦‍♀️

Of course, I was also in such a hurry that the bloodied scratches scoring my arms were completely forgotten. So, by the time I’m about to walk into the school to sign out my kid, I realize how I look 😬. Being me — and in a rush to find my kid — I grab the hand sanitizer from my purse and… wow. I really hope the school doesn’t review those cameras too closely, because I’m fairly certain that sanitizer‑scratch‑dance was not cool 😅.

We get back home after the appointment, exhausted, stressed, and ready to collapse 😩 only to find that one of the dogs (of course it had to be the cutest little thing that acts like the spawn of demons) has taken the opportunity to express his feelings about not being invited to go for a ride...

By eating the couch!

Not nibbling.

Not scratching.

Not “a little damage.”

No... because everyone in this house — when we do something, we do it all the way... even our pets. This loving, cute, cuddly, fuzzy, old dog chewed the entire arm of the couch nearly off like it was a turkey leg at a Renaissance fair.

And that, my friends, was before dinner.

Oh yeah, I totally missed the A/C technician as well. Since I was busy calling the school and trying to get them to find my son (it was lunchtime) to force him to sit still until I arrived, I forgot to call the technician to let them know what was going on. When I finally had a moment to reschedule... they don't have another opening for an entire week 😒. I’m still not sure if it's because they were mad that I didn't call to let them know I needed to reschedule before they arrived, or if they truly don't have another opening for that long. Either way, I'm without A/C right now, which... well, let's keep this blog as civilized as possible and just say that it's very distressing.

Motherhood doesn’t pause for emergencies. Pets don’t pause for emergencies. Life doesn’t pause for emergencies. Everything just piles on top of everything else, and somehow, we’re expected to keep moving, keep deciding, keep caring, keep showing up.

But we do.

Because that’s what mothers do — even when the cat is acting the fool, the doctor is calling with horrible news, the baby of the family is in serious pain, and the dog is redecorating the living room with his teeth.

Well, the chores from yesterday have piled up, so...

🎶Hi‑ho, hi‑ho... off to wash dishes I go🎶 ... and laundry... and sweeping... and mopping... and everything else that goes along with running a large household.

'Til next time, y'all... stay #MomStrong

Much love,

Happy Lwife