Showing posts with label waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Show all posts

Saturday, 5 February 2011

That mood where even the cat is a target

A friend of mine's 15 year old daughter periodically reminds her that she was a really mean mom when her brother Jack was born. The daughter was almost three when my friend's son was born. My friend says that she has a pretty good relationship with her two teenagers but admits that it was hard, hard work juggling a newborn and a toddler. She tells me this story to give me room to complain about my life. It's a nice gesture. But what I take away from this?

THEY REMEMBER!??

I was under the misguided notion that Deaglan won't remember these days. That if I slip up here and there, he'll be none the wiser when he's old enough to seek therapy. Like the other day when I woke up, clearly on the wrong side of the bed, and exclaimed Oh for f@#*'s sake because I couldn't even make it to the washroom before Deaglan was asking me for a million and one things. Shaune just looked up in astonishment and wisely didn't say a word. Later that same day, while playing on the floor and talking to himself, we heard our three year-old say - Awww F**k it! In my defense, I almost never use it as a verb so I don't know where he got that from!

And also? I stopped swearing almost completely when I became a mother. It's only been recently since a certain toddler needs to be told something 19 times before he'll even entertain the notion of listening and since I stopped sleeping about eight months ago. And mostly, I just swear under my breath.

I'd be misleading you if I let you believe that my experience of motherhood is all sunshine and roses. Like my friend says, it's hard, hard work. I try to keep perspective by remembering how lucky I am to have two healthy beautiful kids, but it doesn't always work. Sometimes I want to lock myself in the bathroom and scream. Sometimes after I've told Deaglan to stop jumping 85 times and then on the 86th time he hurts himself, I want to say see, what did I tell you? But it's not the job. I'm supposed to hug him, comfort him.

And I don't always want to play. Let me rephrase that, I don't want to play a lot of the time. I'd rather be checking off my mental to-do list, or enjoying a hot beverage curled up with the laptop. But that's not the job either.

So there you have it. Full disclosure. 

Even though I love this job, there are lots of times I feel tired, and challenged and inept. 
 Now that I have that off my chest - phew that feels good - I'll explain the pictures. I'm hosting a wedding shower next weekend for one of my very closest friends - Erin. That explains why I'm decorating for Valentine's Day - something I usually boycott. I've been trying to find the best vignette for my shelves. I've got a few other little projects I'm working on that I'll post next week.

I also wanted to post a recent picture of myself - it's one of my favourite things when I visit a blog - to have an idea of what the blogger looks like. This is a self portrait I took today. I got some clearer shots but they were a little too clear for my liking if you know what I mean. No one needs to see my big pores and acne.

And I had two potted crocus plants for my shelves, but this a**hole above has been eating them. I know I'm gonna hear it from Shaune for calling the damned cat names on the internet, but seriously. Can I have one nice thing in this house without the cat or kids wrecking it??