Angry Mom

I yelled today.

In fact, I've been yelling a lot lately.

Clara, my sweet little girl, has been recently replaced by a whiny, disagreeable, generally unhappy monster. Every question is met with "NO!" She no longer stays in her room for nap time or bed time. She refuses to stop climbing into the refrigerator or pulling out the eggs and carrying them around the house. The only thing she wants to do is go to her grandma and grandpa's house, and then when she gets there she is crabby and difficult.

When venting to some acquaintances, they ask her age, and then smile knowingly when I say that she's almost two. "Ah, yeah, they're called 'the terrible twos' for a reason, meh heh heh."

Shut up, people.

Even if it were normal for a child to literally change their entire demeanor over night, I feel like there has to be something more going on. Is she sick? Is she teething? Is she going through a growth spurt? Is she in pain? Is she under-stimulated? Over-stimulated? Does she need to just run around for a few hours every day until she drops? I have no idea.

This is my first time here in motherhood, and I don't have any answers. Nobody else has any answers, at least none that make me feel any better. So I try my best to be patient. Sometimes it's really hard.

Supposedly Clara is almost ready to start potty training. I'm told this because she keeps taking her diaper off and then taking a dump on the floor. If this is an important milestone, it's one I'd rather skip. I have cleaned up more poop from this child in the last week than I ever had to with a puppy and however many cats we've had over the years.

Today she took a crap on the treadmill and somehow managed to get it on the (white) curtains and a pair of her dad's work pants. Then our kitten, who is a holy terror in her own right, decided it would be fun to trample through it and then track it on the carpet before gracing me with yet another set of scratches on my leg.

"Clara, do you need medicine?"
"NO!"
"Okay."
"WANT MEDICINE!"
"Okay, here's some medicine for you."
"NO!! NOOOOOOOO  MEDICIIIIIIIIIINE!!!"

It's been day after day of verbal and emotional abuse at the hands of my 23 month-old tyrant. And there's another little dictator on the way. And I just want to clean my house without having it be undone within minutes, and then take a nap. That's all. I feel like that isn't a completely unreasonable request, yet it will never, ever happen. At least not in the next 10 years.

After Clara refused the spoonful of medicine I poured her (she kicked it away and made me spill it all over my hand), I chucked the spoon into the sink and shouted "I AM SO SICK OF THIS KID!" and then proceeded to cry over the sink, while my husband calmly carried her away and then told me to leave the house for awhile. I immediately felt like the worst mother in the world, but you know, sometimes you reach a breaking point. I've hit mine for the day. I feel like I'm drowning.

Being a mom, especially a stay-at-home mom, can be really hard. Every time I talk with someone and I tell them what I do they say, "Oh, what's that like?" and I answer honestly.
"It's great, but really hard sometimes."
Then I get a look of judgment and disdain, followed by, "Well, you're really lucky to be able to do that. I sure wish I had been able to stay home with my kids."

Yeah, okay, I know I'm lucky, but you have to understand that it's not an easy thing to be home all day, every day, on call for 24 hours with a child who is often babbling things that are impossible to understand, has a penchant for destroying household possessions, and is only capable of showing appreciation with a half-hearted hug. Don't get me wrong--those hugs are amazing and make everything else worth it in that moment. But it's HARD. Some people were born to be home with their children and would want nothing else in the world. Other people need a break once in awhile. So I'm asking you people to hold back on their judgment when they see a mom struggling at the grocery store with a screaming child, or at the movie theater with a kid who is acting up, or basically anywhere. Because until you've been there, you will never ever understand how hard it is and how much they are probably just trying to make it through the day without melting down.

So for now I am just going to say that I am tired. Really, really tired.

And my house smells like poop.

Not my bag

I've been a little down on myself lately, and by "lately" I mean "the past 28 years".  I find myself constantly practicing negative self-talk, so I thought it was time for an old favorite: Good vs Bad.

There are a lot of things I'm good at.

I am an expert eater. I do it well, I do it often. I could be a professional. The day that I see a craigslist job posting for "glutton with a 'tude", I will be alllll over it.

Judging? Oh yeah. I'm awesome at that. Although I prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt, I have no problem determining the level of douche a person possesses within seconds of meeting/seeing/smelling/hearing about them.

Sitting around? If the radio spot I heard saying that every hour you sit on your ass takes 22 minutes off your life is actually true, I'm down at least 10 years at this point. Check.

I may not have been chosen for The Voice (still not bitter, still not bitter, still not bitter), but I can belt out a Disney song or two. I can also quote and impersonate a wide array of Disney characters with laughable accuracy. Seriously, I've made people pee from it. Oh! And on that note...

Peeing my pants. No adult can wet their pants like me, nor can they do so at more hilarious times in life so as to provide their friends with prime story-telling opportunities. Not even that old lady from Billy Madison.

I am pretty good at bullshitting people. I once convinced my friend that I had a job writing random facts for Snapple caps. He told other people about it. I was pretty proud.

Keeping a straight face.... that might be what I'm best at. In high school I had a trumpet player do "the fat man shimmy" directly into my face during a game to try and get me to smile, and I. Didn't. Budge. Girl can keep her cool. I can also convert this talent into the ability to deliver face-melting glares when people are annoying enough to deserve it. My bitch face is basically a legend.


I could go on and on (oh, I'm also super good at being modest!), but it's time that I shift to what I'm not good at, simply to keep this exercise balanced. And on that note...

Exercise. And balance. I suck at those things. I LIKE being still. I LIKE being able to breathe at a normal rate and I LIKE NOT sweating. I might be fat, but damn it, I'm comfortable.

Not yelling. This one is what really has made me feel like a piece of crap lately. I generally think I'm a pretty calm person, but my daughter is able to really bring out the beast in me. I can take a lot and then all of a sudden, she's throwing my new ball of yarn into the toilet where I just rinsed out her shitty diaper, and I turn into the Incredible Hulk. I might need meditation.

Cleaning. I'm not saying I could be on Hoarders, but a TV crew coming into my house might trigger a suicide attempt.

Saving money. No explanation necessary.

Saying "no." I feel I have gotten better at this over the years, but I still have a hard time turning down people asking for help or anything else, mostly because I go into a happy place where I am so excited that someone wants to rely on me that I forget I have limitations and I agree and then usually really regret it.

Focusing. See? I'm already bored.