My Blog-sessed Bad-Mom Status

Well, I’m proud to say that this family avoided the Black Friday madness altogether.  Except…

Well, the cat had to have some more food and the car had to have an oil change.  Do the routine purchases count?

Instead, I spent most of the day obsessing with blog layout.  You’ll see not much different at the end of the day, of course, except a little funky lady at the top and the new blog badge-button thingy.  Briefly, there was a comically-bad background change.  Thankfully, the out-of-the-box theme with But it satiated me for now.

What can I say?  I jumped on the mom-blog bandwagon late.  Cutsy things like blog buttons and cartoon avatars seem to be a matter of course on some other blogs I’ve looked at lately, so I’m playing catch-up.  Those darn Joneses, you know.

Speaking of “Jones”-family-like perceptions, I don’t know why I’m claiming to chronicle family life on this blog, anyway.  There’s a not-so-secret truth about this Mommy:

The truth about this Mommy is that a lot of the time, I don’t like being a Mommy.

Instead of taking my children out to the park or some other wholesome activity today, the TV was on, and J and I were vegging out in front of our computers for a good portion of the day.  They had meals, though there’s another post there, perhaps:  the quality of a french toast waffle and yogurt as a proper meal.  Otherwise, the kids have been on their own for entertainment all day long.

I love my children, I really do.  They’re becoming fantastic people who make me laugh a lot.

But first thing in the morning when Rock Steady barrels into the room yelling, “I want apple juice!”  Well, I just turn over and groan.

Then there’s being out in public with them.  This past Sunday at church, we had just started the first hymn when Rock Steady wanted to stand on the pew.  He’s still little enough to get away with it, so I let him.  Then Be-Bop said, Why does he get to stand on the pew?  I leaned over and whispered to Be-Bop, “Because Rock Steady will pitch a fit if I don’t let him.”  I actually told him the truth because I was in a moment of desperation and clarity and well, I thought maybe he could be a big boy about the whole thing…no such luck.  The truth bit me big time…Be-Bop promptly started whining and carrying on, his version of a “fit.”

So, he pitched a fit and it was my fault, but with J up in the choir and a church full of people who no doubt expected a peaceful service, I couldn’t just let him go on pitching his fit and ignore it.  So, out we all went, and poor Rock Steady had to go to the nursery because I was too lame of a mom just to tell him he couldn’t stand on pew.  A good mom would have let him start his little fit and carried him out then rather than basically telling his big brother it was okay to pitch a fit.

I’m a high maintenance girl on my best days.  I miss the days of yoga-filled mornings in peace and quiet, mornings where I didn’t have to share the rug with little boogers who want to do yoga with me but really end up just getting in the way of whatever pose I’m trying in vain to accomplish in this 40-pound overweight body.

This motherhood thing is a tough road.

I love my children, I really do.  I just don’t always love being the mom.


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