Sometimes I’m just all mommed out. It was just one of those days. A pity party kind of day. A I picked the wrong colored cup kind of day. Can you imagine, the wrong colored cup how dare you! I can’t say it was a bad day, it’s not like someone died, got hurt or my husband lost his job or anything. I just needed a pity party kind of day. If you’ve had one of those days recently, trust me, you are not alone.
Sometimes I’m just all “mommed” out.
It was a I said no to the fourth breakfast, issued two more timeouts, and had the nerve to want to snuggle but it wasn’t the couch my son wanted to snuggle on kind of day. I often feel guilty for rolling my eyes at these moments and feeling the anger rise deep into my face when there are women, friends of mine even, that would give their left arm to be a mother.
Sometimes I’m just all “mommed” out.
It was a I wanted to hit our therapist in the face kind of day. She advised us to leave in the middle of grocery shopping if one of the kids misbehaves, ha! No thank you. I’m not leaving the $200 worth of groceries we desperately need (which includes my box of wine!) to just have to come back and start all over again. My son was fake crying, you know that whine that is so fake it’s actually pathetically kind of funny kind of crying. He wanted out of the carriage and I chose to ignore him rather than leave the box of wine behind and do right by what the therapist said. I failed. I gave in. I let him out. He then proceeded to run over two ladies, walk into 4 different people, drop 2 potatoes and chucked an apple at me. I huffed, puffed and said for umteenth time “never again!” I do have the option to grocery shop alone so why wasn’t I?!!! When we were cashing out an older woman walked by and said “I don’t know why but I’ve always had a sweet spot for little boys, what a cutie your son is”, I proceeded to say, “Thank you, but then followed it with a “he’s is for sale, nah never mind he’s free today.” The woman must have had boys because she giggled, thank god.
Sometimes I’m just all “mommed” out.
It was a Daddy just hiked up the waterfall with me but I don’t want to leave now so I’m going to throw myself on the ground and hope it does something kind of day. The beginning of a three day weekend started off that way. Down on the ground kicking and screaming with all four limbs. If we hadn’t been so close to the busy highway I may have started to walk away like I sometimes have to. Yeah that kind of day.
Sometimes I’m just all “mommed” out.
It was a pick him up screaming and crying and make him nap kind of day. You know those days when everything that comes out of their mouths is whined and they act like life is so hard, we suck, and they actually say “It’s not fair!” The days where you know he just needs those two hours of sleep because the whining and crying would be cut in half if he just got a little rest or down time.
Sometimes I’m just all “mommed” out.
It was a O.M.G. I made him the wrong lunch kind of day. When I wondered why I ever gave my kids choices way back when. He was two why would I start asking him what he wanted for lunch? Why did I, a year later decide to not give those kinds of choices anymore because as my oldest says now says “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.” End. Of. Story. Oh no, sorry, he then proceeded to eat each and every bite of that lunch he pushed away for 15 minutes.
Sometimes I’m just all “mommed” out.
It was one of those turn it up, no turn it down, Maddie’s IPad is too loud, Drew won’t close his window kind of day. You know when it’s my fault that we lost service on the way to the grocery store. The same spot we loose service every. single. time. we. leave. the. house. I just said two days prior never again was I going to go to the grocery store with one child never mind two so I don’t know what I was thinking. I said they couldn’t come in to the store unless they were going to be big kids, they needed to be my little helpers and if neither listened they were getting put inside the cart. I know what your thinking why would I put a three year old in a cart still, or better yet my six year old, I don’t know maybe you still do but sometimes the thought of my children having free range of the grocery store alone gives me an anxiety attack. After the 19th honey watch where your going, the 108th, no honey we don’t need that, and one finger getting stuck in the conveyor belt at the cashier I walked out with a $62.01 purchase, a crying child on my hip but I got all the ingredients I needed for my Oktoberfest dinner! However it was a, “If I even hear I lost service (now imagine that being said like this: “It dooooooesn’t woooooork!! Drew’s has service and mine doesn’t, I will stop and leave you on the side of the road kind of day. Yes I said that. Mom of the year!
Sometimes I’m just all “mommed” out.
We may sometimes just be all “mommed” out but in the end we show up the next day. If you made it through a day that you can relate to any or all of the above, give yourself a pat on the back, unwrap a chocolate and poor yourself a glass of wine. Or two. You made it and you will continue to make it.
