I should have just called in sick and laid in bed. Oh how many blogs start out that way daily around the world? I got zero sleep last night due to a nursing baby and a snoring husband. I woke up too early and knew the day wasn’t right. I had forgotten to make coffee the night before so I had to fumble around and do that. After arguing with Brandon all morning about brushing his teeth I finally had to basically hold him down to do it. I kept reminding myself that if I was a good mom my child wouldn’t fight me so much on this kind of thing. I got him dressed and went in search of shoes. I remembered my parents had just brought him a new pair of shoes. He got all excited over the new shoes with the flames when I discovered there were two right feet in the box. So then I had to put them back in the box thus making him cry and run and get more shoes. I was 3 minutes late at this point for work. We were about to leave when Brandon Tarzaned my curtains right off the rod. I was now 5 minutes late. I picked up Codi, turned to leave and launched my yogurt off the car seat and splattering onto my wall and floors. I was now 10 minutes late. I cleaned the mess, realized I had nothing else breakfasty, said fuck it and left.
I arrived at work realizing I forgot my coffee on the counter, my lunch in the fridge and my vitamins and pills in their pill container. So, if you are wondering why I just ate bread, appetizers, salad and desert from Macaroni Grill, there you have it!
Today was one of those days where I feel like a bad parent. Every little thing Brandon did today registered in my brain like Finger nails on a chalk board. By noon it was better but this morning left me feeling like less of a mom. I don’t talk about God on here a lot, mostly because I’m still learning, and then some because I don’t want this blog to turn into some sappy, mommy, non comical type blog. I would hate for you all to leave me because I put on my serious hat for a day. However. In the last few years I’ve toyed with praying. I’ve prayed for friends, for family, for animals, and for my kids. But mostly, I pray that today I can just be a good mom. I find the majority of the time I call on God, it is to ask him, to please, let me be calm and peaceful with Brandon. Let me be the best mom I can be. To just let me be, the mom I know I could be if I didn’t have a mental illness weighing me down. I look around to other moms, moms who don’t yell, have no need for discipline, whose kids are always the model of perfection and I ask myself where I went wrong.
I can already see Codi is going to be different from Brandon. And rather then feeling joy knowing that this child will be easier, I feel weight on my heart knowing other people will always compare Brandon to the good child. That Brandon will become the burden, or the bad child. The child that everyone says, “Oh you just did a better job with Codi because you learned.” But thats not true. I just have two very different children. One who will be quiet and cautious and well behaved and one who just wants to howl at the moon, similar to his mother. I pray every day that I will never be one of those people who compares the two negatively and who always realizes that Brandon isn’t a bad child he is just an amazingly free spirited child with energy I wish I could have for only a day.
I keep wondering when I will come out of the hole I’ve been in for a long time now. This one is lasting longer then they have in ages. I know most of what is causing it. A lot of it is money woes, a lot of it is the snow and dreary weather, a lot of it is the want to ride my bike but having a flat fucking tire, a lot of it is worrying about my kids, a lot of it is worrying that I’ll never measure up as a mom. A girl was killed recently in my town. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, she was sleeping on a couch and some one came in, got her and killed her. They found her just a few blocks from my house. I am now terrified of ever letting my kids out of my sight. I’m terrified of pre school or regular school. Of letting them go to the movies, of letting Brandon play out back. I’m terrified. Everyday it seems I find a new reason to feel like an asshole for even bringing kids into this world. Like the other day when my mom told me that allowing you to see my kids on my blog and being open about who I am and where I am is opening up for some fucker to come steal my kids and hurt us all. Great, now I feel like mother of the year for potentially opening my kids up for that kind of terror.
I want to get out of this slump. I need the weather to pick up so I can go riding. Last summer when I was riding daily I know I was a lot happier, I could ride away the crazy rather then be burdened with it in my head. It is so hard, people say, just run, go on a treadmill, do anything, but they don’t get, something about riding triggers my brain. It’s the equivalent to Prozac or Lexipro for me.
Back to praying. Like I said, I really try to pray. I try to ask to be the best I can. But then there are some days when I just can’t do it. I wake up feeling silly and trivial for wanting to believe in God. I feel like those around me judge me for trying to believe. Even those who believe look at me like a poser. Like I’m not doing it right, or it’s a joke or something. And maybe in the end it will get me no where, but I think that just asking for help makes me feel like a better mom already. I really hope that someday i can figure this all out, and I can be the mom that my kids brag about. I want to be that kind of mom, the kind of mom that other little girls say I want to grow up and be like her some day. I want my kids to have nothing of fond memories of me, and I want them to remember more then just my stellar cooking!