"You aren't mad, Mommy..."

"You aren't mad, Mommy..."

Those were the beautiful words my almost 3 year old preschool daughter spoke to me today... and for whatever reason they both made me mad and sad. 

It made me mad because I could tell that my child had been coached by a well-intentioned adult and family member to say that to me when I seemed upset. She also reminded me that even when I was upset with her, I still loved her. These are reassurances I make her myself when I am rationally explaining why I AM upset.

It made me sad because as the universe was apparently backhanding me upside the head I got an email from another mom friend about parenting without yelling. Oh boy. Have you seen this lovely site?

Frankly, I am more of the "Moms who drink and swear" variety but so. be. it.

I say, Live and let live- or if you piss me off. Live. and let die.... yes, I am a Wings fan because I love Paul. Deal with it.

Anyway, the email from my sweet fellow mother asked the poignant and thorny question, "Would you want YOU for a mother?" 

FUCK. Yes? On some days, I know that I am about two donuts shy of a total meltdown. If that doesn't make sense to you then you understand.

Just call me the Yogi Berra of mothers. That's kind of how my logic works.

Moving on... I have to wonder what kind of memories my girls will retain. 

Will she remember that I always give up my food, comfort and time for her? Will she only recall my time away?

Will they only remember the curse words in traffic? Or will they fondly reminisce over the way I always said "sleep sweet" at goodnight?

Do I have to deconstruct my parenting as I am doing it?!?!?!

Right now, I am too busy trying to BE a parent and do a good job with my brain cells in tact. 

Maybe "You aren't mad, Mommy" is the universe sending me a new mantra or she is practicing what she will say someday when she does something really really bad. Oh god... 

Just when you thought you have the whole motherhood thing down... they change on you!

What is it with this crazy ride? Just when I think- ok, I have the handle on this deal- BAM!! They have changed, moved on to a new, demanding stage! I know, I know- it is a lyrical and magical journey that I must savor since one day they will not allow me to hug them as they drive away in my car loaded with all my best clothes... (actually that does make me tear up a little). The thing is though... I am trying so hard to do the best I can- just like so many of us out there. I am keeping it as organic as I can afford. Reusing clothing and not overconsuming. We compost when we can, grow as much of our own food as possible on an apartment porch and recycle to our utmost. My two and a half year old (as she demands we include the half) is in the midst of becoming a little lady. She's full of opinions, personal timing (as in, no thanks I don't want to do that now, Mother, maybe in a little bit. To which I reply, calmly... NOW NOW NOW! Am I reverting while she matures?) and fashion ideas (But I can wear these pants as a shirt! I really can! Look!). My soon to be eight month old has gone from infant to toddler at warp speed. Last week I was propping her up on a Boppy pillow. This week I am considering wrapping her and my whole apartment in bubble wrap since she now thinks she can cruise! (My chiropractor told me to "discourage" her from walking too early. Whuh???) Just when we got my oldest daughter to sleep in her own room, nightmares began. We got our little one in her own crib and separation anxiety and teething began. Those who swear they do not co-sleep either lock their children in or lie. That's right. YOU LIE.
Ha ha. The universe is hilarious.
I get it. Don't get comfortable. Don't start to establish a routine regardless of what everyone else tells you, books lecture and the SuperNanny insists... (Jo Frost you don't even HAVE children! BLURGH!!!)
I know every bit of sage wisdom experienced mothers pass on is mostly true but still... they are done with this transient thing called motherhood- or are at least through the stage I am in and therefore too smug to be borne... STILL. What other job do you do that never has one job description but ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS changes?
I am not of the opinion that you should get paid for being a mother- it IS a choice for most of us, after all. However, if there were some type of holiday pay/ lunch break/ vacation coverage- or even a bathroom break uninterrupted so I don't have to explain menstruation to my two year old- that would be great. Thanks.

M word, thy name is MUD

As I sit down to type this, I am sweating, my head is aching and I have four- count them 4- children in some type of hyperactivity or coma. I realize my free will was exercised when I drove through the lane and chose the glad fare on the board but I chose correctly- Apples instead of fries. HOWEVER, along with said apples (which reek of some type of preservative and are more pickled than  "fresh") is an easily accessed container of caramel dipping sauce. When I say easily accessed I just want to clarify. My two and half year old daughter easily, and very quietly, opened it and proceeded to consume this container in the car in what I must say was 2 SECONDS FLAT!!! Why would this corporation offer a "healthy alternative" like apple dippers? Um, gee.... I am feeling like there is some type of Mommy Conspiracy afoot... lure in the Moms and their kiddos and then sock it to them with the adulterated bleached apples and sugar syrup! My darling toddler was DeLiRiOuS!!! I am monitoring her for a sugar coma as we speak- she was talking crazy, razzing her older cousin and on a mood fun-ride that was not so fun for those watching.
Now, if for some reason you are not laughing along with me (or fine, at me) then you have never been in a mini-van hell like me and should not bother reading further. Otherwise, send me a mini-violin of sympathy through the computer screen right now as I struggle to type this through the haze of a day of craziness capped off by a deceitful meal that. was. NOT. happy.

The whole Mother Load: The Mother's Prayer

The whole Mother Load: The Mother's Prayer: "Motherhood is my comfort, I will not want. It maketh me lie down- sometimes falling asleep instantly only to be awoken a moment later. It le..."

The Mother's Prayer

Motherhood is my comfort, I will not want.
It maketh me lie down- sometimes falling asleep instantly only to be awoken a moment later.
It leadeth me to toilet waters- for cleaning, toilet training, more cleaning, vomiting...
It restoreth my soul- especially when Mommy's had a little beverage...
It leadeth me in the path of other crazy mothers and their children in the sake of playdates and five minutes of peace.

Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Mommyville,
I will not fear my children are evil, For other mothers art with me (say Hallelujah sisters!)
Thy naps and thy clearance sales, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table for a family that may or may not eat the food I made.
Thou annointest my head with oil and itchiness (when did I last take a shower?)
And that is why Mommy's cup runneth over (mmm... wine!)

Surely goodness and mercy might find me at some point in my life
and I will be living in a house of peace in about eighteen years.
Amen