Pure Joy

Well it finally happened, the boy told me that he hated me. It only took four years, but I finally made it to the Mom Hall of Fame. Why does he hate me? Two words, fingernail trimming.

The boy hates having his fingernails trimmed.  I believe it stems from the fact that as a baby and toddler, I may have nipped his skin a couple of times.  While I was upset at the time, I freely admit that I did it.

The "I hate you" was rather out of the blue. After showering, the boy was sitting on my lap getting his toe nails clipped as they were long enough and sharp enough to cut the lawn.  He turned and looked at me with his honestly little face and said, "Mommy, I hate you," rather matter-of-fact.

My response was just as honest, "Okay, we'll I'm still going to cut your nails and I don't care." There it was tit-for-tat and I was smirking the entire time.  The one thing that neither of us figured on was Daddy.  Daddy was horrified. Poor boy lost his bedtime snack for about 10 minutes.  Daddy was devastated that the boy could say such a thing.  The boy was devastated that Daddy, the good guy, was mad at him.

In my head, the Ba-ha-ha had to be controlled or else it was going to slip-out of my mouth. So, I'm now in the club that my friends are extremely surprised took so long to get to.  One down, only 18 more years of, "I hate you" to go.

Easter Volcanoes

In my quest to be the perfect mother, I decided to attempt making giant Rice Krispie Treat Easter Eggs for my son to take to his preschool. The word is attempted. I managed to make Giant Easter Volcanoes.

Never, ever will I try to follow a recipe again that came in the coupon section of the newspaper. The irony, I work for a newspaper. The boy enjoyed watching is mother scream, "It's burning." while trying to shape the treats into eggs.  I had gooey rice krispies EVERYWHERE.  I finally gave up and shaped the treats to fit inside of 1-cup Pampered Chef bowls.  Once the Rice Krispies were molded, I melted white chocolate to cover the tops.

It's not the best, but the kids seemed to enjoy them. What else can you get covered in chocolate, cereal and marshmallow? Thankfully, there won't be another "kid-friendly" holiday until Halloween.  Ah, the things you go through to make your kid think, "you're the best mommy."

Here's to another notch in my Not-so-Perfect-Mommy belt.

Work

I work because I like it.  It's a breath of fresh air from the boy. Yes, I'm a bad mommy for saying so.  To those doubters, I say...Bite Me.  The thought of spending 24 hours a day, seven days a week with my 4 year-old makes me want to rip my hair out by the roots.  Hooray to those moms who can.  I'm just not built that way.

Do I feel guilty?  Of course, but I like adult conversation.  I also spent four years in college and $50,000.  It's best that I get a return on my and my parent's money. Does that make a me a bad person?  No, it tells me what my limits are.  My day care provider spent years learning how to teach young children.  She is better equipped to handle teaching my son early life lessons. Plus, he's learning social skills by being around other children. He's happy, I'm happy everybody is happy.

I think every parent makes the decisions that are best for them.  Parents choices are tough.  I don't want to walk in anyone shoes.  Mine are enough.

The Beginning

I’m guilty, guilty of feeling like a failure all the time.  How in the world is a woman supposed to balance being a wife, mother, maid, cook and have a full-time job? 

The Perfect Working Mother is a legend, an enigma.  You can't have it all without something suffering.  There are simply not enough hours in the day. I spend 90% of my time worrying that I'm not spending enough time or effort with my young son.My husband and house are neglected and I feel overwhelmed all the time.  At the end of the day, there's no time for me or anyone else.

So, I'm taking my life back.  I refuse to feel guilty because I work 40 hours a week. I refuse to feel guilty because my house looks like a tornado ripped through it.  And, I refuse to feel guilty for taking time for myself.

I have 43 things that I want to accomplish in the next five years both short term and long term goals.  Life's an adventure and it's time that I stop being miserable and start accomplishing something.