I’ve REALLY been needing to blog lately. The time has escaped me. I felt guilty posting this yesterday, on
Mother’s Day. But today is another day –
thank goodness. Here’s the confession –
I love my boys every day, but lately I don’t like them. Hardly.at.all…. There I said it. Judge me if you will, but you know you’ve
been there. Right now I’m praying for a
full time job for scores of reasons, but among them is that I would have
childcare during the day and perhaps, PERHAPS I might enjoy them a bit more
during the time I had with them.
CONFESSION #1
Here’s how it breaks down.
The 7 year old is all smart mouth, toilet humor and fart noises –
constantly. I know, I know, that’s just
males as a gender. Seven year olds are
prone to this behavior especially. This
I know. But as Husband can attest I’ve
never thought this was funny-EVER- and it just ticks me off, frankly that I
can’t make him stop. Don’t get me started
about his father goading him on. I guess
in some (most) ways I was born older.
That little one…. Oh my that little one… I’m fairly certain he’s either plotting to
kill me or to see that I end up at Moccasin Bend (the local mental
hospital). While awake he has two
settings. Those settings are whine and
cry. Save from the rare occurrences when
he gives me a wolfish grin and then kisses me and says, “Mama.” It’s probably
part of his master plan. Speaking candidly, I prefer cry. Whining is worse than nails on a
chalkboard. I can block out the crying. But the whining... Paging Moccasin Bend….. And to top it all off, he hits me. He hits his brother he hits the dogs. Big brother runs in the other direction if he
comes vaguely in his direction with a toy. “Reed’s gonna clobber me! Helllllpppp!!!!” I feel the same way. I feel the same way...
CONFESSION #2
I have a favorite child.
Yep. I said it. I sure as heck do. But here’s the thing – it changes constantly. Lately the favorite is who’s
irritating me the least. I’ll admit that
is Mr. Fart Noises. Why? Elementary!
He’s in (Elementary) school until 2:45.
Ergo I have to endure the crudity for a short while in the morning and
from about 3 o’clock on. The whining is
non-stop. NON-STOP! Even husband asked on Mother’s Day, “Does he
do this all the time? How do you deal
with it?”
What am I gonna do about it?
No idea. Right now I intend to
drink some wine and basque in the quiet that exists only when two boys are ostensibly
sleeping and husband is out of town.
Night…
