“Bubble Wubble” IS the Answer for All Crazed Moms

He’s the child who brings laughter and lightness to our family. He’s funny.  He’s witty.  In fact he has perfect comedic timing. I’m NOT biased, even if I am the Mother-Who-Borned-Him as he says.

And he’s stumbled upon the key for all nagging, grumpy, PMS-y, stressed, tired or irritable moms.

Maybe just maybe last weekend I was all of that. Just a weensy bit.  My poor fam.

If you know me, you know I’m a neat freak.  I crave the orderly of a house with everything in its place at all times.  Its crazy delusional thinking and even maniacal that I attempt to actually keep it just so.  The proverbial shoveling snow in a snowstorm, but just bring it inside my household domain.  Hamster on a wheel going nowhere. You get it.  you get my sickness.

This past weekend was CLEAN OUT THE GARAGE OR DIE weekend. In preparation for our kitchen remodel/addition we need to actually have space to put all our kitchenware, dishes, vases, that-bowl-i-never-use, the wedding-china-we-should-sell, and all entertaining decor.  Thus the garage project.

So here is the scene:

Boxes everywhere.

Driveway littered with throwaways, giveaways, recyclables, and shred-ables.  Stuff all over the dining room table.  Stuff all over my bed and floor.  Its hot and humid and Im nursing a post-car-accident migraine.

Lots of lovely triggers for this mama to be Queen of Irritability.

And my uglies were showing until…

My 13-year-old goofy guy looked at me and said, “Mom, say ‘Bubble Wubble’ in your same (mad) voice.”

I glared. I stewed. I brewed. I caved.

ME:  Bubble Wubble (in my scolding tone). I laughed.

ME:  But no, I’m serious, please go… (do whatever it was I was asking him).

LUKE:  Mom, say Bubble Wubble. (He says it deadpan straight face.)

ME:  No.

LUKE:  Mom, you can do it (This time he says it in a sing-song voice and smirk.)  Just say it. You know you want to.

ME:  Bubble Wubble. (Huge smile ear to ear.)

 

I couldn’t stay upset or irritated.  I couldn’t. Because he kept making me say it over and over and I just giggled.  All the gross tension just oozed out of me.  Even when I tried to suck it back in and remind Luke how important my request/demand/instruction was.

Bubble Wubble.

There you have it.  The 64 billion dollar answer to releasing the inane mom-tension you and I can carry around and blast it all over our families.

 

This whole exchange with my firstborn just reminded me ONCE AGAIN DANGIT to laugh and not take myself so and all things domestic so seriously.

Its just stuff.

Its just a mess.

It goes away.

The garbage man always comes on Mondays.

Goodwill is 2 minutes away.

Its not worth anything in eternity.  You can’t take this with you.  There are no neat freaks in Heaven.

Faith, family, and relationships are FREAKING EVERYTHING in this life.

If I ever forget that, I’ll just say Bubble Wubble.