Oh, you know those days. We've all been there so don't even think about lying. Take your hand away from your chest and wipe the "Me?" look off of your doe-eyed face. You know the ones. Those days when you think to yourself, "If I have to raise my voice one more time, I'm absolutely going to lose my freaking mind!" Those days when you have absolutely convinced yourself that your darling little angels have become possessed by Satan himself. (Okay, maybe too far. We'll say demons.) And if you're a stay-at-home mom like myself, those days when you have threatened, dare I say daycare on your kids and are already pulling up CareerBuilder and slamming down the Search button. Well, let me tell you my friends, we have had a lot of those days lately here in our homestead. I'm pretty shocked that:
a. I haven't lost my voice yet
b. I still have most of my hair.
Oh, and c. That I haven't run screaming from our house.
The white flag has been waving proudly!
As a mom (or any type of caregiver, really) I am always dubious about how well I am actually doing. All. The. Time. "Could I have handled that situation better? Did I necessarily have to yell about what just happened?" And that's another thing I've discovered about myself; I am not a yeller. I actually despise yelling! Yeah! And amazingly enough, it feels like it's what I do for 70% of the day when these two transform into their monster counterparts. I swear I open my mouth to tell them to pick up toys or put their coats on and their little "Mommy Radar" beeps in their head to shut down the ears. I'm not actually yelling because they're misbehaving, I am yelling just to be acknowledged. My throat actually hurt today from trying to get Li'l B's attention. *Enter a growl here because frankly, I physically can't scream* Then I start to think, "Maybe they're doing this on purpose. Clever little devils." And the veteran moms out there just say, "They're testing you. Trying to see how far they can get." Well. I can tell you, I feel like I'm about to fail this "test" and as far as they're going to get is to their rooms.
I never wanted to be that mom who yelled all the time; I'd always been this laid-back, calm person so naturally I was under the impression that it would flow over into motherhood. When I envisioned motherhood, it was me standing in a meadow, sunbeams cascading down over my shoulders, my hair blowing gently in the breeze, my arms outstretched towards my children as they ran laughing and smiling into my embrace, all of us falling over as one big giggling mess. *slap* Yes, that was reality slapping me right across the face. My eyes are watering a tad. Reality is...we yell just to be heard, we silently scream in our heads, we wonder if anyone is ever listening, and we talk to ourselves because we're the only ones who'll listen to ourselves. (Did that make sense? My brain feels fried, apologies.)
Just as I'm waving my white flag high above my head yelling, "Uncle! Uncle," my little man comes up, wraps his arms around my legs and says, "I love you, mommy." Then his sister takes the hint and hugs me, telling me how pretty I am. The little devils drive me to the brink of insanity and the little angels bring me right back.
Guess they don't want to go to daycare. *wink*
