When being honest hurts

Here’s the deal….

Sometimes being a mom is the coolest thing in the entire world. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes I would enter myself in a contest for “Worlds Greatest Mom” {right after the contest for Most Humble}. Sometimes I suck at being a mom. Sometimes I have the patience of a saint. And sometimes I snap at my 7 months old daughter because she just won’t stop fussing about GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT! And I can’t find out because SHE CAN’T TALK and that irritates the bejeezus out of me. Sometimes your kids are the cutest kids on the face of the planet. And sometimes they’re terrors. Sometimes they’re in fabulous moods. And sometimes they’re pissed off at the world for absolutely no reason and nothing you can do will make it better.

That’s life. That’s the truth. And….that’s NORMAL.

Yesterday I stunk at being a mom. I really did. I was a real bad mom to Zoe. I was a real bad mom to Hemmingway. And I was like that all day long. And that’s REALLY hard to say. But, it’s honest.

The day started off just fine. I was in a good mood, Zoe was in a good mood and Hemmingway hadn’t gotten himself in trouble…yet.

Then at about 8am my beautiful, perfect little angel of a child started whining. Inexplicably. I tried everything I know to do {mostly to alleviate teething pain} and nothing worked. So I let her sit on the floor and bask in her bad mood.At breakfast time I put her in her high chair to get her food ready, apparently I didn’t do that fast enough because as she was waiting in her high chair she threw a temper tantrum. I didn’t know 7 month old babies COULD throw temper tantrums…but she did, complete with screaming, kicking, and banging on the tray.

I, as all good {normal} moms do, who just listened to continuous whining for over an hour, snapped at her. I very curtly told her that “we are absolutely not going to play this game today” and to “chill out”. That’s me, Patient Rebecca, at your service. Pretty sure she understood me too…being that she’s 7 months old and all.

By 10 am nap time {we’re at 2 hours of whining now} I needed a break. Thank the LORD for nap time. Up the stairs we went and to my utter delight, this is what I found.

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Thank you, Hemmingway. So now the dog is in trouble. The baby is sleeping {screaming in her crib} and my frustration level is slowing climbing from green to yellow. I realize that the comforter is still {for the most part} redeemable. So I go back downstairs to sit on the couch and attempt a  “reset”. Zoe falls asleep {after 20 minutes of crying} and Hemmingway and I make our peace. Then 30 minutes into her nap Zoe wakes up, screaming.

My frustration level is solidly in the yellow now. There’s still hope. But a kid that only takes a 30 minute nap when they’re used to taking 1- 1 1/2 hour naps spells D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R . Back upstairs I go, where I find this…

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Pretty sure I started yelling obscenities at my dog. Pretty sure he ran for the back door. Pretty sure I scared the crap out of him. This is what I wrote on my Facebook page right after I picked Zoe up…

Breathe. One. Two. Are you freaking kidding me? Three. Breathe. Don’t take your dog to the pound. Four. Five. Six. Breathe. Seven. Eight. Don’t kill him either. Nine. Ten. Breathe. What the crap Hemmingway? The first round wasn’t enough? Thank you for your complete and utter destruction to our home. I love what you’ve done with the place…really, I do.

That was at 11. Zoe and I hung out on the couch while Hemmingway was exiled to the backyard. This is what she looked like.

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Pretty sure I sent that to Brad with a text that said “I’m losing my mind over here”. Translation : TODAY FREAKIN’ STINKS. WHY DID I DECIDE TO STAY AT HOME. WHY DIDN’T YOU STAY AT HOME? I SUCK AT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pretty sure I just put her on the ground and phoned a friend. I needed to GET OUT of my house! I figured a change of scenery would distract Zoe from her crying and distract me from killing my dog. So we get all loaded up in the car, ready to go, and the car doesn’t start. Did I mention that just last week we had to replace the rotors?

Are you freaking kidding me?

Now. If you’re looking at the chain of events…nothing is really that bad. I mean, kids cry, dogs {my dog} destroys things…and a comforter is by far one of the CHEAPEST things he’s destroyed. So what’s the big deal?

I don’t know. I honestly don’t. But I know that when the car didn’t start I went into Code Red.

I very calmly came into the house. Calmly brought the mail inside. Calmly took Zoe out of her car seat and put her on the floor. Calmly let Hemmingway out of his crate.

And then I quit. I tapped out.

By noon I had snapped at every person/animal in the house. I’d screamed at Hemmingway. My patience was nonexistent.

The simple truth is that, yesterday I sucked at being a mom. More than snapping at my child and my animals, this next part is the hardest to admit. I went on strike.

If I could have figured out why Zoe was crying I would have done everything in my power to help her calm down. But for the life of me I couldn’t. So I just said, “screw it”. Zoe stayed on the floor and whined/fussed/sometimes hit her toys until her next nap {which was also only half the normal time}. I sometimes sat on the floor with her, sometimes brought her on the couch with me, but mostly I just sat on the couch at stared at the TV. I don’t even know what was on. I didn’t care. Every so often Zoe would take a break from her crying to look at me and give me this HUGE smile complete with a belly laugh…and it would melt my heart. My frustration level slowly went from Code Red to Green…but it took a while, and I was still on strike.

You know it’s bad when your dog voluntarily puts himself in “time out” all day long.
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I guess he figured that was the safest place to be.

My mother in law came over around 4. She brought dinner. She played with Zoe {who was by that time a perfect angel, of course}. I was able to vent a little. Brad came home and fixed the car…it was only the battery. And I left and went to church…because Lord knows I needed to!

I am so thankful that days like yesterday do not define me as a mother.

I am thankful that today always comes to an end.

I am thankful tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it, yet. {name that movie}

I’m thankful for mother in laws who come to the rescue and husbands that can fix cars {or rather, take the car somewhere to be fixed}

And so, dear friends, if you are like me and you sometimes stink at being a mom…or you sometimes go on strike…you’re normal. You’re just like every other mom out there. And if your kids drive you UP A FREAKING WALL, you’re normal. And if you’re a new mom, like me, and you sometimes get so overwhelmed by the reality of  being a mother to a child, you’re normal. So cut yourself some slack, pour a glass of wine, and hit the reset button. You’re a good mom. One day doesn’t define you. Your kids are normal. Your baby is normal. Chalk it up to hormones and get on with life…besides…tomorrow is going to be a wonderful day, maybe…hopefully.

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6 responses to “When being honest hurts

  1. You are fantastic. Such a breath of fresh air to read this, seeing how I feel like that just about every other day! You are a blessing with a tremendous gift Rebecca!!!

  2. You don’t know me, but I read your blog and love it. I knew Brad in high school and saw your blog on his facebook page. You are a great writer and I really enjoy reading your entries. I have five kids and know this feeling all too well. We do not have pets, though, for a very good reason!

    One year for Mother’s Day, my mom gave me a card telling me that my present was duct tape, so I could tape the kids to the wall and then go do something I wanted for the day!

    I can tell that you are a great mom and your baby is adorable! Keep up the good work. Keep your great sense of humor and remember that this too shall pass!

    • Thanks! You have 5 kids??? That’s AWESOME! You don’t see that too much these days. I’m the 2nd oldest of 5…so I understand a chaotic house. Did you ever use the duct tape? =)

  3. I have those days, too. Sometimes you just can’t figure the little ones out–sometimes I think they don’t even know what they want! Breathe, pray, and I love the idea of hitting the “reset” button.

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