Anyone else get really annoyed by that saying? I mainly see it on facebook or myspace. Yeah, OK, we get it, you're a mom & a wife & you love it. No one is going to say "I hate my life as a mommy & wife!" because they'd just get hate mail because of it. So please, stop advertising that you're happy in your status updates or whatever else. And no, a glittery blinking image placed on your page won't convince me of it either. And as a mommy & wife, I can honestly say I don't love every moment of it & I dare anyone to say they love every moment of it. Don't sleep for 36 hours because your baby is sick...do you love that? Of course you don't. Have your husband undo the entire cleaning of the house you spent hours on in the first 10 minutes he's home, tossing his dirty socks all over your house for you to pick up...do you love that? No, you don't. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids & my husband, but I don't love every moment of my life. I hate my life every time my son poops. I hate my life when my son won't sleep & we're all dead tired. I'll admit it & I don't feel bad for it. And you know what? You shouldn't either! It's alright!
I'm that mom. You know the mom I'm talking about...the one who you don't want around. The one with the snot nosed brat that you don't want to deal with...the mom or the snot nose.
OK, not really. My lovely Jules isn't THAT bad. Don't get me wrong, he's got his moments. All kids have their moments though. And if you think your kid doesn't, I've got bad news for you, you're one of those moms, the one who doesn't realize her kid is an annoying mess because she's too busy trying to make all us other moms believe her kid poops rainbows. I bet you also have a blinking imagine on whatever social networking site you have telling us how much you love your life as a mommy & wife.
Anyway, I've always worried about having those kids no one wants around. And where Jules doesn't get tons of interaction with kids his own age, I've worried he isn't good at handling kids his own age. But really, he is. He's good. He's just not good with me.
Playing mom is hard work. I do what moms are suppose to do...get up, do laundry, clean my house, take my son out to the park, & run errands, all before my husband gets home from work, then while he naps I cook a wonderful dinner. Lots of women do this perfectly every single day. Trust me, I know they do, I read babycenter. Some women even put makeup on before their husbands get home! So my task shouldn't be too hard.
I get up every morning the same way. Jules pokes me until I turn on the TV so he can watch Elmo. That furry red thing haunts my nightmares. Seriously, the other day I took a nap & had a dream that I needed a cake & the only cakes I could find featured Big Bird shoving Elmo up Cookie Monsters ass. Disturbing.
During the next few hours I hope that my son doesn't totally destroy my house. Breakfast? It's in the floor. What, where do you put your pancakes? I usually sweep, so my 8 cats can have a pile of crap to play in & scatter across the floor so I have to sweep again. If I'm lucky, or I guess I should say if he's lucky, I feed our dog. Of course I also take a moment if I go outside to send an evil glare over to my crazy neighbors house. She's nuts, I'm telling you. She doesn't talk to me or any other woman, but if someone with a penis is outside she'll about fall over herself to go talk to them. She complains about my dog barking, when he's in the house. She also complains about 3 small trees near the fence at the far back part of our property. She claims it shades her pool, which makes it turn green. And no point during the day do these small trees shade her pool, they only shade a small area for her yapping dogs to rest in, & her pool is green because she doesn't believe in paying for chemicals so she puts a small box of baking soda in once a month & wants to pretend that'll fix all her problems. The first week we lived here she never spoke to me, but Adam knew about her iron problems, her knee surgery her kids, her pool, her yard work, & her dogs hip problems.
Anyway, back to my house of insanity. Around 1pm we usually go out everyday. It passes the time for me, I get out of my messy house, & Jules pretty much demands it. Today he demanded it around noon, so we got an early start. I was going to take him to a park, out to lunch, then make a quick run to Wal Mart.
First I set out to go to the park. The park is always fun, right? I decided to take him to a nice park in another town, instead of our hobo filled parks. Last time we went to a park in town, I was worried that my sons screaming woke up the drunk guy passed out on the hillside, so I wanted to avoid that issue this time.
One problem though. I had no fucking idea where this park was. Oops. I knew Adam took me to it once when we were dating. I only remember it because we went after he got his mail out of his box & had gotten a Playboy in. I spent the next couple hours looking at the magazine in amazement...they'd airbrushed out vaginas! Seriously, some girls had nothing there, it was like looking at a naked Barbie, plastic & no genitals.
Oh, & if you're wondering how I'm cool with my husband looking at naked chicks, please note that was when we were dating. Like most women, I was totally cool with naked chicks & porn...then we moved in together. And then it got worse when we got married. Thankfully I get naked as soon as I get in the house, so he gets to see my boobs to make up for the lack of boobs in his everyday life.
Anyway, being so wrapped up in the Playboy, I didn't exactly take notes on the directions to get to said park, so I was lost. I drove around in attempts to find it, but I eventually gave up. I then decided to just take him to get food somewhere that had a play area, so I opted for Chick-Fil-A. We go in & get food then sit down. Jules doesn't want to eat, of course. He has food in front of him on a table, if it's not on a floor he's not eating it. So I eat. I decided "I won't give into his demands for attention!" since he was pushing on me, I figured to try to get me to get up & take him somewhere. After a couple minutes I realize I no longer feel the little guy. I turn to look & he's gone...into the next booth. He was waving at me. He hadn't been pushing on me, he'd been using me as footing to climb over the booth. Lovely. Thankfully it was an empty booth, that would have been embarrassing.
I finally give up on him eating & pack up his food before we set off into the play area. As soon as we walk in, two mothers look at each other then scurry their kids along to the benches in order to get their shoes on & leave. I can't help but to wonder if they just didn't want their kids to play with mine? After they slathered "magical lotion" on their kids they left the room & it was just me & Jules. I tried to show him things to play with, including a soundboard thing. Touch flowers, nature noises would echo through the room. There was even a "Golden Rule" flower...you touched it & it would give you helpful hints on life, such as "tell the truth, then you will have less to remember!" OK. Nice I guess, if you ignore the fact that it's a creepy voice booming in a closed off room as if it was the voice of god. Soon another child comes in & runs around the play area, while calling my son a girl over & over. I don't really mind, my kid has hippy hair, he's been called a girl before. Him using the big kid toys, which included a climbing tube & then a slide, made Jules interested, though his legs were too short to climb with. He enjoyed cheering for the little boy though, which was cute.
Eventually a grandma sends her grandkids in. Alone. A 3 & 2 year old. Within the first 3 minutes, we hear a loud thud & realize the little boy has fallen. The other mom ask if he's alright & he says "NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO." I go over because I'm closer, help him up & ask again, to which he replied again with "NNNNNOOOOO" before storming out of the room. Grandma eventually sends him back in & he tells us he's OK afterall. At that point I realize it's an accident waiting to happen, so we get ready to leave. I wrangle my kid & get his shoes on while the other mom does the same & leave with her little boy. Jules continues to run around a bit while grandma comes in & starts making small talk with me. Soon she's dragging her kids out & I look for mine in the slide. He's no longer in the slide.
You see, as I said, the other little boy had Jules interested in the big kid toys, but he couldn't climb. But with his shoes on, the little devil had enough traction to climb up the slide, so he is now 10 feet in the air, almost impossible to see because this thing is totally enclosed. As grandma & the kids leave, I'm left with my kid somewhere I cannot get him. This structure is impossible for an adult to get into, I really don't know what they were thinking with it. I try for the next 10 minutes to get him to come down, hoping he doesn't get scared & freak out because I know that means we're calling 911. Yeah, I want to be on the news, but I want to be talking about the idiot, not be the idiot in the story. Finally I decide I might have a weapon to lure my son out with...
"Jules...come down this way & we'll get you ICE CREAM!"
You'd be amazed how quick a kid moves for ice cream.
I follow through on my promise, I get him a milkshake along with one for me. I figure he can handle that in the car. I forget though that Chick-Fil-A has open tops on their milkshakes, so they are easily dumped onto your toddler. I was reminded as I was putting him in his carseat & he dumped some onto himself. After pouring some out though, I was confident we'd be fine. At this point we go to a park which I actually know. About halfway there I see in my mirror that he's holding his cup up above the seat, which is a sign that he wants you to take it. I take it, thinking, "wow, he's not really drank alot of this" only to realize he couldn't. He's shoved his straw down into & through the side of the cup. He'd basically speared his cup. So I'm driving down the road, one hand on the wheel & the other hold holding his cup over my cup to prevent it from leaking out into my messy enough as is car.
Once we're parked, I get the bright idea to pull out the straw. Watching years of ER, you'd think I'd know that you never remove an object because blood will just gush out everywhere.
In this case, strawberry shake gushed out everywhere in my car.
Being a mom, I had a nice handy pack of baby wipes, so I used those to clean my car with. Then I used more to clean myself. Then, of course, more to clean Jules.
He did enjoy this playground, he even went down the slides all by himself. I explored around the area since I'd never been there before myself. They had a big kid play set as well, so I was looking at it & thinking "why on earth do they make these slides out of metal?" & right about then I heard blood piercing screaming from my son...who'd just touched one of the hot metal slides.
So...again...what dumbass decided the best material for children to play on during the hot summer months was METAL?
He was fine, he just freaked himself out. And after he calmed down, I then proceeded to freak myself out when I realized some weird random guy was watching us after coming out of the woods, was coming closer to us, & didn't seem to be doing anything. I decided I could be getting ready to be robbed or god knows what, so we got ready to leave. And funny enough, as we were packing up the guy suddenly stopped & walked back into the woods. As we walked to the car, I played out the interview between my husband & Nancy Grace, because I'm weird like that. And I wondered if I would have time to update my facebook status about the fact that I was being kidnapped so someone would know. I also kept thinking about how the press conference to announce I'd been found alive after turning on my captor & killing them & escaping to safety, how maybe I'd get on Oprah to plug my book about my story of survival.
What, am I the only one who thinks like this?
Our next stop is Wal Mart. I needed milk. Just milk. I left spending $60.
I buy organic milk. Not because I care about health, I just care about cows. Really, I love cows. See?
And before you say "um, that's a fake cow, if you loved cows wouldn't you take a picture with a reasl cow?"
Well, I tried!
Cows...they aren't friendly. But I bet organic cows are friendly. They are suppose to be nicer to their cows, the carton even has a picture of a guy cuddling a cow, so that's enough to make me pay almost $4 for 1/2 gallon.
Even though I love cows, I don't drink milk, but my husband & son swear it's better than regular milk. A few weeks ago we were out, so I had Adam run to the gas station down the street to buy regular old milk since I was cooking something that required it. The rest of the gallon sat in the fridge & went bad. When I asked why no one drank it before drinking all the other milk, I was told "it tasted funny." So you heard it here...cuddling cows makes the milk taste better.
Anyway, why did I spend so much? Mums. Yes, mums.
I'm in a constant battle to make my yard nice. I like pretty things. My grass isn't very pretty, things die easy & my front flower bed, though it has some flowers & low laying shrubs, is full of weeds that nothing kills. We're actually going to dig it all out, lay down a insane about of garden fabric stuff to prevent weeds, & start all over in the spring.
Oh yeah, honey, if you're reading this I decided that we're going to dig it all out, lay down a insane about of garden fabric stuff to prevent weeds, & start all over in the spring. Hope that's alright with you. Love you bunches!
Back to the story now.
So as I'm walking in I see mums, so I'm forced to buy several of them so I can torture myself planting them. But dammit, they will be pretty for a couple weeks at least, right? My hanging baskets are just now at the point where they are actually dead, so they survived well since I got them in like April. In our defense, we were doing so well with our yard & flowers, it looked really nice, but when we lost Joel we kinda stopped caring. And when I say Kinda stopped caring, I mean we kinda just wanted to curl up & die, so we didn't care about grass or flowers. I think that's understandable.
Anyway, I load my cart down with mums, then I don't have room for anything else. As we're shopping I buy some fruit for Jules, grapes & strawberries. It wasn't until we were leaving I realize he's been eating both all along. I'm so attentive. Actually I was attentive. When you have 6 huge mums in your cart, including laying on their sides on the bottom, you have to be careful not to hit things to hurt your mums. I have my priorities. As we get to the car I open my trunk to see it's still half full of things from Sam's Club from over a week ago. I just had to get paper towels, the world would end if I didn't go buy some. Still in my trunk, along with the insane package of toilet paper. So I'm packing some of my mums in along with my milk & the frozen food I'd bought. The only frozen foods I bought were what I was planning for dinner. I'm really bad about hoarding frozen foods. I have my regular freezer PLUS a deep freezer & they are both totally packed. Adam loves when I go shopping & come home with bags & bags of frozen goods. Makes him want to kill me in my sleep by beating me with a frozen pack of meat or french fries. As I'm putting my mums in the trunk, my son decided to start a game of "pinch the buds off" which caused me to freak out a little because I'd spent no less than 15 minutes picking the perfect plants without any faults to them & now he was pinching them. Finally I fit everything into my Passat, did my usual thinking of "my god, why didn't I buy a SUV?" then drove home.
As usual, I stripped off my clothes right away, but this was mainly because I was hot & sweaty. As I've said before, I hate to sweat. So I wanted to get in the shower & figured Jules could use a shower as well since he'd thrown sand on himself after coating himself with milkshake. Never did get all the sand out of his hair...hope that's worked its way out by now.
Shortly after my lovely husband arrived home where I bitched at him for not getting the Sam's Club stuff out (OK, not bitched, but you know what I mean) & then announced I was on mommy break, it was his turn to tag in & be the main child supervisor, which he does always without complaint. He's weird, he actually gets that he's a dad & just because he's not the stay at home parent, he should still parent. It's amazing! People gush on him to an annoying point, I remember at a cookout we had at my house my inlaws & my dad sat in the living room talking about how "he holds the baby when he's crying!" Um, yeah? Sorry, I'm off on a random rant, but I love my husband & the things he does, I just don't think they are anything all men shouldn't be doing. I'll get off my "dads should parent, too" soap box now.
Soon after he napped in the chair with our lovely son, because that's what they do everyday around 4pm, while I sat on the couch. I eventually got up to cook a delicious homemade dinner. And when I say homemade, I mean I opened a couple bags of Bertolli. I highly recommend the tri-color ravioli. Nothing says "I love you, honey" like feeding him something you've thawed & heated in a 400 degree oven for an hour instead of trying some weird, random recipe that you'll regret the rest of the night. I don't cook anymore, I've basically resorted to my mothers method of cooking in her 30's, which was only things from cans or thawed. I look forward to my 40's, that's when my parents decided to stop grocery shopping all together & just get take out & delivery everyday.
And that was the day in my life of being a mom & a wife. I happen to think I'm a pretty darn good one, even though I don't do many things right. At least I try, right? And I see humor in it. I just really need to start carrying a camera with me. I would have hated to not get pictures of my little boys first rescue attempt if the milkshake hadn't gotten him down. I also don't think I'm totally abnormal. Yeah, you'll hear the stories from people who get 5785867 things done, perfectly, then have perfect hair when their husbands come home to a clean house to relax & do nothing in every single day of their lives. We all have good days...but we all have bad days as well. It's called being human.
So next time you worry your kid is that kid, you get nothing done at home, or you feed your family a frozen pizza for dinner one night (or like 4 nights in a week), don't beat yourself up. Just stop & think to yourself "no matter what...I'm doing better than that woman with the blog!" Chances are, it's true.