I received the most amazing, wonderful, thoughtful, sweet gift in the mail today. I won a raffle at Jennifer Paganelli’s Sis Boom Site! I won a lot of gorgeous fat quarters from Jennifer’s new Prelude Collection for Free Spirit. Gorgeous, soft, vibrant, rich fabrics and colors. A quilter’s/sewer’s dream fabric! Not to mention, Jennifer is so lovely, generous, beautiful, and kind. Jennifer, I promise to make something lovely and just for me with this wonderful gift! Prelude Beauty. For me. Meeeeeee! 
Gorgeous, eh? Jennifer’s fabrics are the reason I decided to learn to sew last winter, that’s how fantastic her fabrics are! If you love to sew, you should visit her site and get to know the delightful Jennifer and her charming fabrics!
Sometimes, mostly when I’m flustered and burned out, I question just how good I am at this whole mommy thing. I think about other moms, many with more kids than me, and wonder if their days are anything like mine.
The Domestics
Most of the day, of course, is wonderful. We play, we read books, we hide, we build forts, we make pretty things, we learn (Bella is sounding out all the letters of the alphabet!), we bake, etc. But there is the 1-2 hours I spend doing house chores. Where I’m totally distracted by the mess and can’t do anything else until I feed the obsessive compulsive beast. And I feel guilty about putting the kids in front of a movie, or Starfall.com, or sending them to play in their rooms. But my job here at home is to not only play and nurture but also to keep the domestics going. I hear other moms talk about “letting things go around the house” in order to give that energy to their kids. I can’t do that. My house HAS to have what I used to call a “Saturday Sparkle” (when I worked, my house was only really clean on Saturday) every day of the week. I’ve tried not obsessing over the dirt on the floors, but it’s not my nature to let that (or anything else) go. I figure Jeremy works all day, the least I can give him in return is a clean home when he comes back to us. He doesn’t have standards, but I do. And I feel guilty if the house isn’t clean, but I feel guilty for the house taking my attention away from my kids.
The Discipline
I’m not really a spanker. Austin was ALWAYS such a gem that discipline was easy. I could just give him “the look” when I’m disappointed in him and he suddenly looks like a deer in headlights. I last spanked him 3 years ago, can’t remember why. All I do remember is that we both cried for hours afterwards. We cried like babies. And something that makes you feel that horrible has got to be every kind of counter productive, so I try everything else before I pop any butts. I remember Bella being a bit of a challenge for me in her twos, but she’s as easy as pie now. I don’t recall what she would do that was so challenging, but I remember talking to my friend Kim about her behavior. Kim suggested I put Bella in daycare for a few days a week– perhaps Bella just needed more interaction. I never put Bella in daycare (money, as always) and the problems just seemed to disappear. She’s a sassy, sweet, smart and fun girl now. No problems there. But Noah? OMG. Noah. He’s a handful. I’m sure it’s the twos, that it’s just another stage. But this child has the power to unravel everyone in the house. We’ll all become cranky and irritable when he’s cranky and irritable. And it sure seems like he’s cranky and irritable a lot. He has to be engaged at every moment or he’s into trouble– pulling hair, hitting, just being a little monster. Tell me this too will pass. Tell me that, please. And I gripe, but when he’s sweet… Oh, when he’s sweet… He melts the Earth beneath my feet. I’m head over heels for these kids.
The Burn Out
By the end of that day, I’m pooped. I’ve usually done A LOT in that day, so it’s no wonder. I’ve cleaned, I’ve played, I’ve dealt with tantrums, I’ve wiped butts, I’ve dispensed medicines and herbs, I’ve burned 300 calories at the gym, I’ve baked cookies (now a nearly daily routine), I’ve shuttled kids to playdates and gymnastics, I’ve cooked, I’ve even actually squeezed in a shower and a curling iron in there somewhere. I’m tired by 7 pm. I half heartedly play, brush teeth, and read books before bed– and then I’m spent. A glass of wine and a shower revive me just enough to give my sweet husband the rest of me before I crash into a fast slumber.
Mom’s Tantrums
But in this crazy day, I throw some tantrums of my own. And I guess I wish I knew that was OK. I’m good for one tantrum a day. No, I don’t cry or throw myself on the ground when I tantrum. That would be weird; I’m 32. But I do have times during the day when I’m NOT patient or nurturing. I want to lock myself in my room and pout. And it’s usually sparked by some silliness like not being able to take a poop by myself or Noah squirting the last of my hair gel all over my freshly mopped floors. Is it OK to get flustered and burnt out and yet still be grateful and feel blessed? I just wondered because no one really talks about that. I spend a good bit of time wondering if I’m the only mom on Earth who feels a bit overwhelmed. And I feel guilty for being at all flustered because I could try being more grateful. I know more than anyone that I am living the dream.
So tell me… Honestly… What part of this post can you relate to? Do you get flustered or are you one of those Super Moms who gets the job done and leaves the whining for the babies? Do you feel guilt or do you just rule the roost? Do you balance it all with style and grace or do you slip on hair gel while trying to balance it all with style and grace? Fess up, Momma.
***EDITED: Ok, nevermind. It’s not who I thought it was… It’s just some dumb ass cyber stalker trying to play games. Greg D. doesn’t have Anonymous Surfing and email tools. Only weirdos would actually spend money to have those! Nice try, numb nuts. You made a funny.
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So either someone is just messing around or they haven’t read my blog long enough to know me. Take this post down or I need to hire a lawyer? Pahhh-lease! What will you sue me for, Dumb Ass? And what grounds would you have!? I’m sooooo sure that there’s a judge somewhere willing to take my rusty 1996 VW Jetta or my fake jewelry as a settlement after you prove that ONE SINGLE WORD I WROTE IS FALSE! Fuck you; no one wishes it didn’t happen more that I do! I think maybe you may need a lawyer, child molester! Maybe the issue isn’t that I wrote about it. The issue is that it really happened and you wish it could disappear!
Shall we stir this pot? There’s some sticky nastiness on the bottom– sure you wanna do that? Don’t threaten me– obviously there’s a lot of evidence going against you. I’m in touch with all those kids from Terry Sanford through Facebook and MySpace. Bet you wouldn’t even remember which kids witnessed, but I guarantee I remember. Those memories are BRANDED into my brain. You got to walk away. I got to stay. There is no more punishment that I could suffer from that experience. Perhaps it’s your turn now?
But no. The post is not going anywhere. That post is there to stay. If it is harmful to your image, there’s no one to blame besides yourself. Maybe in your next lifetime you can keep your hands off of your 17 year old students? Or maybe next time you will be smart enough to be more discreet about it!
I’ve had some nasty comments lately and I don’t mind saying that I’ve deleted them, and will continue to. I don’t know if that’s because those comments were hateful or because they hatefully made me aware (and regretful) of my own hatefulness. None the less, this isn’t a place to come if you are feeling nasty or want to air. There’s a double standard too because I air and get nasty here sometimes and it’s ok. I pay a pretty penny to have a website and I’ll censor things as I see fit– sometimes that means censoring my own hatefulness because I feel bad about what/how I said something later. This blog is my therapy and my outlet. If you want to be nasty and talk shit, GET YOUR OWN BLOG and get your groove on! No holds barred.
I don’t assume to be a nice person all the time. But no one is, even if they intend to be. I guess your being nasty and juvenile on my blog through comments is better than me being nasty or juvenile on my own blog because I’ve had a bad day? Do me a favor and go take your bad day somewhere else because you ain’t gonna be nuthin’ but censored and rejected here. Right or wrong, this is my place. Take it or leave it. But if you leave it, leave it in peace and leave the judgment and ridicule for your politicians or your parents… Not my blog.
I learned something valuable this week and these nasty comments have further validated it for me:
Some people look for the bad in others, and that bad somehow sticks out to them more than anything… they can’t move past it. Some look for the goodness in others, no matter what. I want to be one that looks for the good, even when I find it challenging, because everyone deserves a benefit of the doubt, forgiveness, compassion. If you were to read through my blog and my life’s stories, surely you will find a little of the ugly and a little of the sweet. Hopefully you leave here with the goodness. Because that’s what I’d want.
When I tread, I want my footprints to leave a consistent pattern of goodness, but I know that I’ll hop, skip, slide, and stumble along my way too. I hope you see that here… in me, and my words: I’m human. Love me through it and perhaps, when we meet on the other side, we’ll have mastered goodness finally and there will be no need to judge or look beyond faults and weaknesses. We’ll all just be able to love one another then.
A great movie that I find really haunted me and renewed this whole “human” goodness/weakness thing is “Crash”. Rent it. Watch a movie that will stay with you for awhile instead of visiting my blog to air meanness. Time better spent. And I forgive you if you forgive me…
