Human Highlights: Mom Moments

Human Highlights is a Sunday tradition at Commode To Joy. It’s a friendly reminder to forgive your human moments, celebrate the highlights, and enjoy life’s little lovelies in the interim.

Because it’s Mother’s Day (and because this is my blog, which means I make the rules), I’m changing it up today. Instead of featuring my Human Moment, Highlight, and a Little Lovely from the week, I’m sharing a Mom Fail, Mom Win, and Mom Moment.


Mom Fail: I had Miller in the car driving to the Athletic Club to teach my Piyo class. We were halfway there sitting at a red light when Miller said, “Mommy, you didn’t buckle me in!”

We’ve hit the point where Miller gets himself into his carseat and then Mark or I fasten the straps. Thursday, Miller loaded himself in while I put the bags in the front seat, closed the doors, and started the car.

I remember my brother-in-law recounting a similar story several years ago when he noticed his middle child, who was around 4 at the time, walking around the van as he drove. I’m thinking this forgetfulness is some sort of (unintentional) rite of parental passage.

“Miller, just stay in your seat, okay?”

“Okay mommy.”

It’s true that I was concerned for his safety and was on high alert for any sideswipers for the short drive that remained. I was equally concerned for the fact the we were about to go right by the police station. I imagined Miller, with his newfound freedom, climbing up to the front seat with me.

Thankfully, he listened and stayed put.
Thankfully, no idiotic drivers or accidents.
Thankfully, no suspecting police officers or tickets.

Welcome to humanhood. Welcome to parenthood. Welcome to motherhood.


Mom Win: Since becoming a mom, I’ve done my best to keep an identity separate from “Miller’s Mom”. (By the way, any time I hear someone say “Miller’s Mom”, I automatically start singing to the tune of “Stacy’s Mom” by Fountain of Wayne – “Miller’s Mom has got it going on…”)

Anyway, Friday, while Miller was napping, I had this big, rushing, revelatory sense of calm. In that moment, all I wanted was to be Miller’s Mom. So once he woke up, that’s exactly what I did.

When he wanted to run through the garden hose, I sat in a lawn chair and watched (rather than pulling weeds, sweeping the garage floor, vacuuming the car, checking my phone, etc…)

We walked up the hill and searched for a shady spot where we could, as he suggested, “talk about things”. At the first shady spot, we talked about cars. At the second shady spot, we talked about trees. At the third shady spot, a neighbor walked outside with her little girl – two of Miller’s most favorite people – so we went over and visited.

Most mom wins are stories of saving your child from hurting themselves, pulling off a fabulous party, getting your kid(s) to eat vegetables etc… A mom win (my definition) is any time you feel like you’re winning as a mom. And Friday? I won big.


Mom Moment: Every time we leave the Athletic Club, Miller likes to “creep”, which means we stop by two fans to see if both will be on, off, or one on and one off; he then picks up broken pieces of asphalt and puts them on the slab of concrete. Creeping complete.

“Mom, let’s creep!” he’ll say as we exit the building. (I can’t figure out why he calls it this or where he came up with the term.)

Unless it’s raining, I oblige, because there’s no rush. Because he loves it. Because some day he won’t want to “creep” anymore. And because of all those reasons, it’s a mom moment that I’m able to soak up.


Catching the breeze off of both fans.


To the moms, step-moms, and everyone who fills in as a mom – our spouses, siblings, parents, grandparents, and friends. To the people out there who make us better moms including non-moms and babysitters. To the moms who have lost their mothers but not the lessons learned. To the moms who have lost children but will never lose their title.

Happy Mother’s Day


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