yesterday I cried
Yesterday was supposed to be really good. Just for me good. Today is my birthday but I was chaperoning Emma's second grade field trip to the Insectarium so I was determined that yesterday I would celebrate my birthday for me, by me. And I did. Mom and I went shopping and had an everything fit day, even talked one manager into 20% off for the occasion. Had a wonderful lunch at Nordstrom's complete with those little complementary stick chocolate mints. Managed to squeeze in the tiny grocery shop just in time to pick up the kids and make a healthy dinner and felt triumphant. I did it. I did a day for me. Ha.
After a disaster of a bed time in which I ended up taking away pink Dolphin from Elisabeth, sending her to bed hysterically crying and then whimpering and finally quietly weeping till she finally crashed because she hates to sleep without Dolphin...
After an even bigger disaster in which Alex hit her sisters and kicked her sisters and pushed and pushed every button and ended up hitting me in the face and swinging her shirt at me and in which I flipped her over and spanked her, accomplishing nothing except to prove that it hurts to get hit but in no way showing her what to do with her anger except to hit... She did not cry.
After trying to explain to Emma why I had to hit Alex and having her tell me maybe I should try showing her the right way to do things instead of yelling at her...
I cried. I took myself downstairs into the library and cried. Like Lissy cried for Dolphin. And I felt God all around me reminding me that I am not perfect and my children will not be permanently scarred and He loves every bit of me even when I screw up royally, and then I cried more, and then I had a vision of my child telling her teacher I hit her and suddenly child services will be coming to ask why I hit my child and all those lovely black vicious clouds filled my nightmares.
Glen talked yesterday about this article about how long-term partners should follow their passions, because one of the best ways to be attractive is to be doing something you love passionately so your partner can see you with the radiant glow that passion and confidence brings. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. So when exactly does that happen for me now, mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy, somewhere in the glorious radiance of last night's bedtime in my house?
So today is my birthday and the thing that struck me most was that my mom was actually here and for the first time in years someone else bought my cake instead of me and when they sang "Happy Birthday" they actually said my name and not Mommy. It sounded wonderful and weird.
My husband must actually have realized that something is going wrong, perhaps when I told him he might as well forget my name, because for my birthday he has offered to design for me a real photography website where I can display and sell my photos professionally and link to a real website/domain which I should add to my mommy business cards. I didn't have the heart to tell him I don't have the heart and have no idea who will bother visiting my site, but maybe just doing it with him will bring some of it back. I feel a lurch somewhere in the middle of my chest that might be described as either fear or hope. So hard to tell these days.
mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy
After a disaster of a bed time in which I ended up taking away pink Dolphin from Elisabeth, sending her to bed hysterically crying and then whimpering and finally quietly weeping till she finally crashed because she hates to sleep without Dolphin...
After an even bigger disaster in which Alex hit her sisters and kicked her sisters and pushed and pushed every button and ended up hitting me in the face and swinging her shirt at me and in which I flipped her over and spanked her, accomplishing nothing except to prove that it hurts to get hit but in no way showing her what to do with her anger except to hit... She did not cry.
After trying to explain to Emma why I had to hit Alex and having her tell me maybe I should try showing her the right way to do things instead of yelling at her...
I cried. I took myself downstairs into the library and cried. Like Lissy cried for Dolphin. And I felt God all around me reminding me that I am not perfect and my children will not be permanently scarred and He loves every bit of me even when I screw up royally, and then I cried more, and then I had a vision of my child telling her teacher I hit her and suddenly child services will be coming to ask why I hit my child and all those lovely black vicious clouds filled my nightmares.
Glen talked yesterday about this article about how long-term partners should follow their passions, because one of the best ways to be attractive is to be doing something you love passionately so your partner can see you with the radiant glow that passion and confidence brings. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. So when exactly does that happen for me now, mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy, somewhere in the glorious radiance of last night's bedtime in my house?
So today is my birthday and the thing that struck me most was that my mom was actually here and for the first time in years someone else bought my cake instead of me and when they sang "Happy Birthday" they actually said my name and not Mommy. It sounded wonderful and weird.
My husband must actually have realized that something is going wrong, perhaps when I told him he might as well forget my name, because for my birthday he has offered to design for me a real photography website where I can display and sell my photos professionally and link to a real website/domain which I should add to my mommy business cards. I didn't have the heart to tell him I don't have the heart and have no idea who will bother visiting my site, but maybe just doing it with him will bring some of it back. I feel a lurch somewhere in the middle of my chest that might be described as either fear or hope. So hard to tell these days.
mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy
posted by me at 7:58 PM
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