Michelle, why do you vent on your blog all. the. time.?

Yeah, I threw a tantrum the other day.  What of it?  I needed to vent.

I played nice with the general public yesterday, but this morning was another cluster-flip, so I'm not even going to ask if we can be friends again because I may forget my manners (and general vow to do better at life) and yell profanities if you happen to cut me off in traffic later this afternoon.  So, perhaps we can try again next week.

There was a Michelle once upon a time who was very meek and unassertive and afraid of her own shadow and wouldn't raise her voice at anyone (I swear.  You can totally call people and verify it).  But you know that scene in Enough with Jennifer Lopez where she breaks into the guys house and learns the layout in the dark and beats the crap out of him because she just can't take anymore of being a victim?  Yes, the mental equivalent of that happened to me somewhere around the age of 16 or 17, and I never looked back. 

And I hear complaints about my temper and how loud I am in general and have been called a b*tch more than once, but you know what you will never see?  You will never see me on the news being led away in handcuffs for driving my car through a fast food restaurant's plate glass window because they got my order wrong for the four-millionth time in a row and that was just not the day to forget to put cheese on my burger.  

So, you know, there's something to be said for venting your frustration on the regular. 

For working moms

This is my working-mom tirade.  It's my small way of giving back to the working-mom community by saying what you may have wanted to say for years.  (I stayed at home with little Silas for all of two months, and I know it's no picnic, but I can't write for you if you're a stay at home mom because I don't live that life.  But I'm sure with some editing, this can also apply to you if you need to forward it to someone who's making you lose your ever-loving mind.)

Yesterday?  I got the kid and myself dressed, I dropped the kid off at the babysitter, I fought traffic to work, I worked all day, I fought traffic back home, I picked up the kid, I let the dogs out, I cleaned the kitchen, I made dinner, I cleaned dinner off the floor and off the kid, I cleaned the kitchen again, I let the dogs out, I bathed the kid, I reasoned with the kid to to go to bed, I did laundry, I worked on what I didn't finish at work, I recorded the Mavs game and made sure to record overtime so that the husband could watch it when he got home, I refilled the kid's sippy, I worked some more, I refilled the kid's sippy and changed his diaper, I worked some more, I let the dogs out and fell into bed exhausted.

My day job is stressful.  Not rocket science, but there is someone needing something all the time.  It's a lot like being at home only it carries the stress of "if I lose my shit here, I can't pay the rent next month."

There is never enough money to cover everything, and God-forbid we have an emergency.  (Like last month when there were several trips to the ER at $100 a pop).

My neck has so many knots that sometimes I can't turn my head to the side.  I'm keeping whoever manufactures off-brand ibuprofen in business.  I'm in constant physical pain from the stress.

There are not really many points in my life where I'm doing the equivalent of lounging by the pool and sipping a margarita.  I've got stuff going on almost all the time.  If it's quiet in the physical world, it's still a whirlwind in my head.

My point?  Am I moody? for sure.  Can I be bitchy?  at times.  Am I crazy?  it's possible.  But I. have. reasons.  

So, I'm very sorry if I'm not meeting your needs in whatever capacity it is I'm supposed to be meeting them for whatever our relationship is, but I'm doing the very best I can.  So, get off my back.  Immediately.  

Because if you are the next person to make me cry or cause the veins in my forehead to bulge, I'm going to blow straight through those flashing yellow caution lights and go straight to red.

Ya dig?

A letter to Silas

Dear Silas,

Could you kindly stop beating on the bathroom door and crying pitifully when mommy goes in there and closes the door?  It's not like I've fallen into Narnia just because there is a door separating us.  It's not a secret portal.  I haven't escaped.  And I always make sure that there is another adult to terrorize lest you try to burn the house down or do cartwheels off the couch.  So, you can totally continue to do toddler things while I take a five minute shower.  I'm not even going to shave my legs.  Honest.

Also, seeing as you didn't start sleeping through the night until you were nine months old, it'd be great if you'd go back to doing that.  I love you too, but pleading for me to get you out of bed at 3 a.m. only serves to make us argue, and you don't seem to be big on logic right now.  So, mostly, you're just making me feel crazy for trying to reason with you.  I'm working on the whole patience thing, but I'm just going to be honest with you and let you know that I'm not even trying between the hours of midnight and 7 a.m.  Therefore, I cannot be held responsible for any tantrums that occur between those hours due to your insistence that I get out of bed.

Lastly, it's sweet that you like to share, but stop asking me for cheese and then giving it directly to the dogs.  You see, I'd just stop giving you cheese, but I have that mommy-fear that you aren't eating enough.  Denying you food when you actually ask for it just isn't an option.  So, just eat the cheese.  

I ask all of this with a big please, and you know the only response to that in our house is "O-kay!" since you're the one who made that rule.

Love, 

Mom

Geez

Have you ever been curious as to where your parents' and grandparents' generations got some of their crazy expressions?  Well, I've solved the mystery...

They made them up trying to keep you from running around town sounding like you just walked off a Navy ship and into a bar.  

Why do I know that?  Because yesterday, I received the most "Holy sh--!" worthy news I've received in a long time, and I found myself texting the word "Geez" in response.  Silas does not yet know how to read...and even if he did, the baby is so not allowed to play with the  iPhone since I had to part with it for 2 weeks and will never. live. that. nightmare. again.  So, hello?  Why am I texting like Opie Taylor? 

So, back to your parents.  They thought they were just cleaning up their mouths in front of you, but then they just got tired and gave up.  At some point, it becomes exhausting to be your pre-baby self in some settings and your post-baby self in other settings.  So, you just say "to heck with it, I'm toddler mommy 24/7" and when you smash your thumb with a hammer, you say, "sugar."  You don't even yell it.  You just say it with knit eyebrows and a frown and a slight growl in your voice.  Because you're defeated.

Now, go apologize to your mother for telling her she was embarrassing you when you were 14 because I'm certain this goes way beyond language and that everything your parents did to embarrass you is your fault entirely.  Just like everything you're going to do to embarrass your little angel is going to be his/her fault entirely...and then your grandchildren will come along and exact revenge for you.  It's the gift that keeps on giving.

Survivors

You know those days when you suppose you are the worst parent in the world because you feel like you've been hit by a Mack truck and you are desperate for it to be your child's bedtime so that you can just lay on the couch and watch terrible movies and feel sorry for yourself?  Mmm hmm.  That would be yesterday.  

Luckily,  my child has fantastic intuition and decided he was in the mood to play sweetly by himself and wasn't trying to put screwdrivers in light sockets or climb on top of the refrigerator or drop a toaster in the bathtub or ride his big wheel into traffic. He totally sensed that I did not have the energy to chase him around and keep him alive.  So, he played barnyard and ate his dinner and kept the bed time tantrums to a minimum.

This morning he demanded to snuggle me before he got dressed and informed me that I was handsome.  Thank you, little prince of a child, for easing some of that ever-present guilt by loving me despite the fact that I was not able to be super mommy (or even mediocre mommy) yesterday because if you had been in one of your moods and bitten me or dropped "f" bombs for twenty minutes or refused to be in or out of the bathtub at the same time or threw yourself in the floor demanding Fruit Loops or beaten me to a bloody pulp while I tried to put your pajamas on, we might not have made it through the evening.

I channel days like the last two when you're in one of your moods and acting like a heathen and testing my patience and making my eye twitch with stress so that I remain calm enough not jump out the window.  So, thank you for having them.

I think we're going to survive each other yet, son.

Mommy blog link

One of my favorite people (Emma) shared a link with me that is my new obsession.  Maybe you know about it already (but you better not if you're not Emma because you should already know about sharing at this juncture in your life and you didn't freaking share), but if not, please prepare yourself to lose the rest of your afternoon and to have sore abs tomorrow from laughing so hard. 

These ladies make my blog obsolete.  They say it all but so much funnier than I ever could.  

I'm linking you to their post "is this the right blog for you?" so that you have a feel for whether or not you're going to love it (and if you don't love it you probably hate my blog too...so I'm curious as to why you're here.)  I then suggest you go to their link for "our favorite rants (updated)" and check out the "If you're new to mommyland" posts to get acquainted with them.

http://www.rantsfrommommyland.com/p/is-this-right-blog-for-you.html

You're welcome in advance.

I'm older today

At 6:59 a.m., I was very much feeling like this turning 29 on Friday the 13th business was not going to go well.  You know because my son had been screaming - to quote American Idol "at the top of his register" - for 45 minutes and Michael had left to go to his first day at his new job approx 3 minutes into the tantrum.  So, I was wracking my very sleepy brain for WTF to do to get him to STOP IT NOW!  

Pretty much the second the clock rolled over to 7 a.m. (which is apparently a reasonable time to be awake in Silas' world, but absolutely not a minute sooner) he turned into chill, sweet-chubby-cheek-smile-wearing Silas and scooted up next to me to chat about the things we usually chat about (Word World, Daddy, the Goggies [doggies], milk, etc.).  So, nerves fried, but crisis averted.

I've been seriously spoiled since then (and last night too - new iPhone - holla!  and last Sunday too, and well, I'm spoiled a lot).  I told you my people are awesome.  Thank you all so much for making me feel so very special and loved today!  

If you want to give me a present, click the link below and vote for this family to win this contest!  I'm not going to put you in their business, but I wouldn't be asking you to vote if they did not truly deserve to win.  So, please vote every day through the 15th!

https://apps.facebook.com/moms_rock/entry/168234?=f2797z