Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Today I am known as Mom the Tyrant.

Tid-bit of the day that's totally unrelated: I hate when people I am close to, don't get excited with me about the happy things that happen in my life. That tears me down.

I flipped off the deep end when my youngest produced numero dos in her underwear. She has developed a habit of fighting me whenever I have to clean her messes. While I was struggling to clean it up she managed to have wiped it all over my clothes. Now that's disgusting. I can handle being thrown up on, used as a Kleenex, food landing in my hair, but when they start smearing crap on me, I get mad. Very mad.

Like I said. I flipped. Today, I thought, was going to be different. I was in the clear to gain back Mel's confidence and identity. I was ready to be me again. Not a facet of me, just me. I even started rummaging through my closet and tried on clothes for my sister's wedding, (meaning: I tried on something other than a t-shirt). I only do that when I feel confident. Imagine my anger after the whole ordeal was done as I thought, 'Just as I start to gain Mel back, I'm reduced to the slavery of being a mom. Lowest of all lows.' I have no confidence in myself. I don't have any faith in the fact that I can do anything at all!!!

Where did Mel go?

I imagine down the toilet with all the other crap I just cleaned up.

And I don't want to hear about all the reasons as to why being a mom is such a blessing. Because today? It sucks. Royally.

ahh. Now I feel better. I think because I just admitted to myself that being a mom can really suck sometimes. And not being Mel really sucks too.

Only one dirty deed left:

I just have to reach into the toilet and pull myself back out.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

can't think of anything to say except *hug, hug, smile, laugh, and disinfectant ;)* song lyrics *we (moms but not me) are the CHAMPIONS my friends and we'll keep on fighting till the end* another song *aruba jamaica ohh i wanna take you to burmuda bahama come on PRETTY MOMMA* oh and don't forget, *the sun will come out (or in this case MEL)Tomorrow, bet your bottom (that is not poopy) dollar That tomorrow there'll be MEL.* I hope you feel better.

ps. One more song for you to sing to yourself *I feel pretty oh so pretty and witty tonight!!!!!! don't forget to twirl. * ok i guess i did think of something to say. feel free to throw whatever you want at my bad "singing" :D

Anonymous said...

A son of mine (noy your husband) used to slip off his pants, clean up then hide the poopy pants to be found at some future, and usually embarassing, time. It is especially gross to step on in the dark.
No matter how much your "mom cloak" covers you, I always see the Mel underneath. Just flip that cloak to the back now & then and strut your stuff!