Wednesday, February 17, 2010
first off, sorry for the delay in posts. these past few days have been rough for me. secondly, this may be too personal of a post. but i need to vent. i really need to vent.
do you ever feel like you suck at something...as if you just can't grasp the concept of exactly what it is that you're trying to achieve?
i do. there are a lot of things for me that make me feel this way, right now, it's being a mom. i have been feeling defeated A LOT. i'm terrible at this whole mediocre-mommidom, even worse at normal-mommidom and the worst at super-mommidom. i see all of these other mommies and they rock at this. they are patient, creative, pleasant, never complain and don't yell-EVER.
we were at the grocery store yesterday. my sweet babies were riding in the red 'racecar cart' (their favorite) and were doing fine. then, MP didn't want to share his monkey with his sissy. they fight. they hit. they yell. everyone is staring. i quietly try to intervene, explain the importance of sharing and let them know we won't be here much longer. it works, for about 7 seconds. they start again. pushing. squealing. fighting. i try a different approach.
if you can't be sweet and share the monkey then mommy will hold it until we're back in the car. all hell breaks loose. to them, this is not acceptable behavior for mommy. finally, we're finished shopping. FINALLY. (but not before the entire store knows that i am a horrible excuse for a human being and moreover, a mommy because my children are throwing mini-tantrums in public and i have not done enough to hedge these reckless acts of rebellion.)
Norah screams at me the entire way home. pounding me with insults and ear piercing sounds that beat on my self esteem. how does a 3 year old effect your self esteem? i know she is just a baby. lashing out because something didn't go her way. my head knows this, but my heart...my heart aches. she is instructed to go directly to her room when we arrive home because this behavior will not be tolerated.
she slams the door, teenage style, with rage in her heart. after a few minutes, i check on her and ask if she's ready to come out.
NO! she screams. i don't want you. i don't like you. i do NOT want your company! i do not want to live in this house. i want to live with grandma. get out!
My reply is meek, i am sorry you feel this way. once you calm yourself down, we'd be happy to see you. i quietly shut the door. she begins screaming-this noise. it seems so foreign coming out of such a precious baby. and it sounds so...real. like she is truly feeling this madness that escapes from her tiny mouth into primal sound. i'm angry at her. my heart hurts.
several more minutes pass by. i check on her once more. she's playing in her room and doesn't notice me walk in. i sit down on the bed. she lashes out at me...again. i think to myself; i will NOT allow a 3 year old run my house; i can't stand this! i yell at her. i tell her she is being selfish. i tell her to straighten up. quit that crying or mommy will really give you something to cry about. you have everything little girl! stop acting this way!
she's crying. she's hurt.
i'm crying. i'm hurt.
i slam the door.
why would i do that? she doesn't deserve this. she deserves better than me. more than i have been giving her. her reactions and actions are a direct result of the examples put forth by her adult guardians. me. she's acting like me.
whoa, i need to take a minute. a minute alone. i head to the bathroom. MP is pacified by daddy right now. it's the perfect time for a breath. i stare at myself in the mirror. i look crazy. i feel crazy. my eyes are riddled with-with what? i can't transmit the wild-eyed look into a word or emotion. i cry. a sob shakes my body. i feel weak-weak minded.
get it together, i tell myself. NOW.
sometimes, i am exhausted by my children. i think they think i am a joke. they don't listen to me. they don't follow my directions. they don't they don't they don't...
have i not taught them how to correctly behave?
have i not loved them enough?
have i not been a good enough example?
in my mind, the answers to all of these questions are NO. you have not taught them enough. you have not loved them enough. you have been a terrible and measly excuse for an example because unfortunately…this scene is not new. it’s happened before. and that sucks. it sucks bad.
i don't want your pity.
i want a new slate.
i want to start over.
i want. i want. i want.
my children and i-we'll be fine. mommy just needs to take a few more minutes in the mirror...looking…searching...analyzing...defining...who I am.
because my little sponges don't need to soak up anymore of this negativity.
my little sponges, need me.
and i need my little sponges.
together, we will make a better woman. a better mom. a better wife. a better friend. a better life.
together... this will be the last scene of it’s kind.