Moms have a lot on their plates every day.
Parents have a lot on their plates and rarely get a break because they have to juggle numerous tasks throughout the day, such as washing the kids’ sticky hands and faces, folding their laundry, making sure they have breakfast and lunch, and getting them ready for school.
No matter how hard they try, there’s bound to be some kind of disaster waiting around the corner, like a glass of milk knocked over, a toy you accidentally stepped on, or a stain somewhere.
Few mothers can afford the luxury of a short shower before turning in or taking some time for themselves.
Some things we take for granted as parents are touched upon in a recent piece by Heather Duckworth, a mother who has been through it all.
The messes kids make as they mature before our eyes into the persons we’ve always imagined they’ll become are an integral part of that process.
It’s important to remember that our children will look back on the messes we cleaned up as adults and use those memories as the greatest testament to the childhood we gave them, so it’s worth the effort to find the joy in the midst of the chaos.
Regrettably, not all women get to experience the turmoil and clutter that children create.
Likewise, not all parents are able to enjoy the joy that children bring into their lives.
The popular post by Heather titled “The Blue Stain” resonated with many new and expectant mothers.
Heather’s heart started pounding as she scrubbed the grout her daughter had formed with the slime, remembering the disaster she had to remove all those years ago.
After a long day of running around after her two-year-old triplets and four-year-old older brother, picking up toys, and making sure no one got hurt in the piles of laundry she couldn’t finish that day, this mother would reflect, “My hands were full, but so was my heart.”
Before turning in for the night, Heather and her two sons danced to the radio while they tidied up the playroom.
Nobody could have predicted that it would be the last time they laughed so hard for a while.
It was just as she was settling in for a good night’s sleep herself that she heard one of the lads remark, “Uh, Oh,” and she saw the huge blue stain that would haunt her dreams forever.
The pen one of the triplets was holding burst in his grasp, spraying ink everywhere. His hands, face, and pajamas were all blue, giving the impression that the tiny boy was a smurf.
While she watched, Heather felt like a bad mother and began to get angry.
She hadn’t been angry with her son, but she did hold herself responsible because she had left the pen where youngsters could easily access it. Her feelings got the best of her.
“I gasped as I saw blue splatters across the floor and a thick pool of ink sinking into our carpet – our brand new carpet. I quickly yelled for my husband, who had been doing the dishes, to come and help me. I instantly felt so upset as I grabbed my son and took him to the bathroom to clean him up and my husband started scrubbing those bright blue stains on our carpet.”
Heather’s feelings of annoyance and fury would always resurface whenever she saw the stain on the fresh new carpet. All the wonderful times she had with her sons were symbolized by the stain until the day it was finally removed.
The youngster who spilled blue paint on the carpet was diagnosed with cancer a month later, and he died two years later, leaving the stain as a memento of their time together.
“It was still there . . . and now . . . it was a constant reminder of my son. It was a constant reminder of my frustration over something so trivial . . . something so unimportant in the scheme of life.
That blue stain was a constant reminder that life is messy, but that’s what makes it worth living. A constant reminder to not sweat the small stuff. A constant reminder that ‘things’ aren’t important, but people are. A constant reminder that accidents happen. A constant reminder to let go of the little things and hang on tight to what is important.”
She tried to cover up the vivid blue stain with the furniture, but every time she cleaned the room, there it was, staring at her, reminding her of her loss and the sorrow she was still feeling.
Heather’s story is meant to remind us of how often we take life for granted and fail to appreciate the little things that give our lives meaning. She feels the need to inform all the moms out there that the dirty laundry and strewn about toys are what really make the house a place of comfort and safety for their families.
Those messes, made by the people who matter most to us, are what make our lives worthwhile, as Heather puts it, because there will come a day when we will miss those moments very much indeed. “I would have a million blue ink stains on my carpet if it meant I could have one more day with my son.”
Her advice to moms: don’t let yourself get so wrapped up in the world that you miss out on quality time with your kids. Life is too short to be wasted scrubbing stains, so prioritize what matters most!
Please SHARE this touching story with your family and friends on Facebook!
Entitled Couple Took My Premium Seat on the Plane – I Taught Them a Lesson and Turned It into a Profit
We’ve all been there—settling into a flight, ready for the journey ahead, when suddenly, something goes wrong. For me, that something was an entitled couple who thought they could bully me out of the premium seat I had carefully selected. Little did they know, they were messing with the wrong person. Here’s how I turned an infuriating situation into a satisfying victory and even walked away with a profit.
I had gone out of my way to secure a prime aisle seat with extra legroom, knowing it would make the long flight more bearable. As I settled in, feeling content with my choice, I noticed a couple approaching. At that moment, I had no idea that this interaction would lead to a lesson in standing up to entitlement.
The woman, dressed in designer clothes and exuding an air of entitlement, stopped next to me without so much as a greeting. Her husband, just as arrogant, stood behind her as she demanded that I switch seats with her. She claimed she had accidentally booked the wrong seat and couldn’t possibly sit away from her husband. Her tone made it clear that this wasn’t a polite request—it was an expectation.
I was taken aback by the audacity of her demand. When I hesitated, she rolled her eyes and dismissed me with a scoff, claiming that I didn’t really need the extra space. Her husband chimed in, urging me to be “reasonable,” as if I was the one being difficult. The entitlement was overwhelming, and I could feel the eyes of other passengers on us.
Rather than escalate the situation, I decided to avoid a confrontation. With as much calm as I could muster, I handed over my boarding pass and sarcastically wished them well in my seat. The woman snatched the ticket from my hand with a muttered insult, while her husband smirked, clearly feeling victorious. But as I walked away, my irritation grew—and so did my resolve to turn this situation around.
As I reached the middle seat in row 12, where I had been relegated, a flight attendant intercepted me. She had witnessed the exchange and informed me that the couple had tricked me out of my seat—they were both supposed to be sitting in row 12. The revelation was infuriating, but I wasn’t about to let them get away with it.
I smiled at the flight attendant and assured her that I had a plan. While the middle seat wasn’t as comfortable as the premium one I had given up, I knew it would be worth it. I decided to let the couple think they had won, all the while preparing to turn the tables on them.
About an hour into the flight, once things had settled down, I signaled for the flight attendant and asked to speak with the chief purser. I calmly explained the situation, detailing how the couple had deceived me into switching seats. The purser listened attentively and thanked me for bringing it to her attention, promising to handle it.
A few minutes later, the purser returned with an offer: I could either return to my original seat or be compensated with a significant amount of airline miles—enough to upgrade my next three flights. I chose the miles, knowing they were worth far more than the difference between premium and economy on this flight.
As the flight continued, I noticed activity around row 3, where the couple was seated. The purser, accompanied by another flight attendant, confronted them about their deceit. The look on their faces was priceless as they were informed that their behavior violated airline policy. The purser even mentioned the possibility of them being placed on the no-fly list pending an investigation.
In a desperate attempt to defend herself, the woman blurted out that they weren’t even married—she was his mistress, and they were having an affair. The situation had gone from infuriating to downright bizarre, but I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction as I watched their smug expressions crumble.
As we landed and I gathered my belongings, I couldn’t resist one last glance at the couple. Their faces were a mix of anger, humiliation, and fear as they faced the consequences of their actions. Meanwhile, I walked through the airport with a sense of triumph, knowing that I had not only stood up to bullies but had also come out ahead.
In my 33 years of life, I’ve learned that sometimes, the best way to get even isn’t to make a scene but to patiently wait for those who think they’ve won to realize just how badly they’ve lost. This experience was a perfect example of that principle in action.
In the end, my encounter with the entitled couple on the plane wasn’t just about a seat—it was about standing up for myself and turning a negative situation into a positive one. By staying calm and thinking strategically, I was able to teach them a lesson they won’t soon forget and walk away with a profit. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the best victories are the ones where you don’t just win—you win on your own terms.
Leave a Reply