You want to know a terrible secret? At least once a day I have the mind numbing revelation that I should never have had children, and that there is now nothing I can do about it. Having children is one decision you can't undo. They are permanent.
These moments don't always last long, for example, this morning's revelation happened when Thing 1 suddenly decided to bolt into a stranger's yard while on our walk, throw herself dramatically on her back and start rolling in circles. I tried verbal parenting like all the good books recommend, but my child was staring blissfully at the sky and had apparently been temporarily struck deaf.
I had Thing 2 strapped to my chest, but I managed to haul her limp sister up with one hand, expecting the owners of the house to appear at any moment demanding what the ruckus was about and sending their pitbull after us.
Thing 1, of course, screamed and thrashed as only a two year old can, kicked off both her boots and sent her hat flying into the bushes. I did an impressive squat with a shoeless toddler under one arm shrieking that I was "Squiiiiiiiishing" her, an infant trying to get away from the noise by arching backwards into my collar bone, and retrieved the scattered clothing with my free hand.
Then I walked two blocks home with my child hanging upside down and her sister kicking me in the groin, grinning fiercely at any of my neighbors who were also up as early as I was. And there it was, the burning certainty that I had gotten myself in over my head.
There is no time to dwell ofcourse, because there are clothes to put away and food to prepare and messes to tidy and babies to nurse. that time
But I know it was there - That horrible, brutally honest moment when I imagine what my life would have been like if I was kid free.
This doesn't mean I don't love my kids. It doesn't mean I wouldn't die to protect them. I think it just means that they are little and demanding and I am very, very tired.
I just hope that there are parallel worlds, and in one of them I slept in this morning, took a long shower, shaved my legs, read a book with coffee, paid all my bills in my awesome home-office, am now painting a picture before meeting up with some friends for dinner where we will discuss our love lives and then catch a late showing of the latest blockbuster.
Maybe that makes me a bad mom - but this blog is about telling the truth, even if it is horrible.
These moments don't always last long, for example, this morning's revelation happened when Thing 1 suddenly decided to bolt into a stranger's yard while on our walk, throw herself dramatically on her back and start rolling in circles. I tried verbal parenting like all the good books recommend, but my child was staring blissfully at the sky and had apparently been temporarily struck deaf.
I had Thing 2 strapped to my chest, but I managed to haul her limp sister up with one hand, expecting the owners of the house to appear at any moment demanding what the ruckus was about and sending their pitbull after us.
Thing 1, of course, screamed and thrashed as only a two year old can, kicked off both her boots and sent her hat flying into the bushes. I did an impressive squat with a shoeless toddler under one arm shrieking that I was "Squiiiiiiiishing" her, an infant trying to get away from the noise by arching backwards into my collar bone, and retrieved the scattered clothing with my free hand.
Then I walked two blocks home with my child hanging upside down and her sister kicking me in the groin, grinning fiercely at any of my neighbors who were also up as early as I was. And there it was, the burning certainty that I had gotten myself in over my head.
There is no time to dwell ofcourse, because there are clothes to put away and food to prepare and messes to tidy and babies to nurse. that time
But I know it was there - That horrible, brutally honest moment when I imagine what my life would have been like if I was kid free.
This doesn't mean I don't love my kids. It doesn't mean I wouldn't die to protect them. I think it just means that they are little and demanding and I am very, very tired.
I just hope that there are parallel worlds, and in one of them I slept in this morning, took a long shower, shaved my legs, read a book with coffee, paid all my bills in my awesome home-office, am now painting a picture before meeting up with some friends for dinner where we will discuss our love lives and then catch a late showing of the latest blockbuster.
Maybe that makes me a bad mom - but this blog is about telling the truth, even if it is horrible.
6 comments:
We all have those thoughts. If anyone denies it they are lying. - Fauntel
I kinda hope so. :)
If we didn't have *these* moments, then we could never have *those* moments that make *these* moments "all worth it" . . .
Also, despite your exhaustion, you took your children on a walk rather than any host of other "easier" options ... you are a PHENOMENAL mom!
~M Penna
Horrible horrors. I agree, it is horrible when the realization hits that we are not above being imperfect but rather are a part of the human race. ;)
NOoooo!!!!!!! Must be PERFECT! Horrible horrors indeed. :)
Yeah, you're okay. *big hugs*
Some mornings you need to raise your coffee cup to that other parallel universe you, the one with six kids. (Maybe there are also multiple Tyrant Daddies in that one. One may hope...)
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