Because I believe in being completely transparent on this blog, I'm going to share with you my ugly truth for today...
I completely lost my shit tonight because my four year old peed on a fresh, out of the closet, bathroom mat.
Yes, you read that correctly. The eff word was used, as I explained to the Hubbs what had happened. I yelled at my four year old and asked her how on earth she could pee on the floor/rug since she was four years old and over two years potty trained. I slammed doors and huffed and puffed until...
I looked at my four year old crying in the bathtub and realized I'm an asshole.
I'd like to say I was a complete and utter asshole because I worked all weekend. I'd like to blame it on lack of sleep, or on the dinner I didn't enjoy because it was left overs and thrown together and the kids and the Hubbs had to suffice on fast food. I'd like to blame it on something. But I can't. Because I was being an asshole just because.
Just because I lost my "book" outline. The one I have been coveting and referring too, and putting off for another day. The book outline that I looked for until midnight last night, while the kids slept and I cried because for some reason this was the November I was going to write "the book". This was going to be the November I was going to conquer my fear and join NaNoWriMo. I was going to do it I tell you, until...
I misplaced the damn outline. Without the outline I'm paralyzed. I'm petrified. and I can't write a single thing for "the book". And that makes me feel like "the book" is just a pipe dream. Just another thing that is just ever so slightly out of my reach.
And since I'm being an asshole to my kids because I'm stressed out about something that's not even a real thing, I'm also being selfish.
And the world continues to turn.
But since I'm a mom, fueled by guilt, steeled my ever increasing apologies, I did what all crazy, selfish, asshole-y moms do. I apologized. I promised that I'd do better. Try harder. Be happier. My four year old doesn't really understand when mommy says she's not mad at her, that mommy is mad at the situation. My four year old has no idea that mommy has an agenda too. One that doesn't include Cheetos and Elsa dolls. My four year old only knows that sometimes her mother acts like a complete and total asshole.
You want to know what the craziest part is? Working all weekend didn't actually suck. In fact I rocked that shit this weekend. Yesterday when I was managing we banked five thousand dollars in sales. That was just in the first five hours. Today, the same thing happened. I was on top of my game. My team and I made it possible for the store to make its month. I achieved goals I didn't even know I was working towards this weekend. Which felt pretty damn good.
Until I came home and became the asshole.
That's the scary part. The part that is so black and white. I can be a good mother. I can be a good employee. But I can't seem to do those things at the same time, on the same day, or even within the same month. Why is that? And why does that prospect scare the complete and total shit out of me? Will I ever find the happy medium? I don't even approach balance these days. I just smile and wave from the sideline hoping that "Balance" will tip it's fancy top hat at me, letting me know he's still there watching and waiting. I'll take okayest mommy, sometimes good employee, and if I have a spare moment, fly by the seat of your pants (with out the fucking outline) writer. If I could just manage to do all of those things in the same day. Even if I only did them for ten minutes at a time.
Is there a moral to my story? Yes. No. Maybe. Is it ok to be selfish and upset when we don't get our ways? Yes. I realize that even with the guilt, I've lost so much of myself in motherhood, that even when I get a foothold in something and it doesn't pan out, I'm allowed to be an asshole. But that doesn't give me a free pass to be one all the time. Do I need to practice patience like I tell my girls? Yes. Practice makes perfect, or maybe something damn close. Do I need to forgive myself? Yes. Because unlike my kids, I don't always love myself anyway. Think about that, friends, the next time you lose it with the kids. Your children will love you anyway, even if you don't love yourself. If that doesn't blow your mind, nothing will.
Most of all I realize that mothers are notorious for doing all the things. We may not do them well, but we do them. Then we cry, we write, or we drink every ounce of wine in the house. Or we do all three. But we do them. And then we get up the next day and do them all again, with a better sense of self, with a little more patience, with a little more grace. So that the next time your kid pees on a clean rug, you don't lose yourself completely, act like an asshole, and then have to confess about it on your blog.