Liar, Liar Pants on Fire

Back in the day when I used to watch Oprah (you know, before she got all sanctimonious about everything) there was this one show she did about the reality of motherhood. Well actually, it was a show that was responding to the backlash of the show on the reality of motherhood. Oprah and her crew had made a lot of American mommies angry because on the original airdate, she managed to spin it to make it look like most moms don't like their jobs. Imagine that.

For the entire show the discussion centered around the topic of whether someone could be a good mom and not like the crappy "extras" that come with motherhood. Like.... the 50 million loads of laundry, the potty accidents, the sleepless nights, refereeing sibling squabbles, etc., etc.

Now you (all 8 of you, my wonderful readers- mwah!) all know what my stance is on this kind of stuff. I do not call myself "MeanieMom" for naught. I don't apologize for my cranky behavior when it comes to the dirty work. But there was this one mom on that show that I think of often. She refused to budge from her stance that there had never been a minute of motherhood that she found herself hating. Every single second, she said, was a joy for her.

So, since viewing that particular episode I have found myself scrubbing poop out of the carpet at 6:45 a.m.(pre-coffee) and thinking of her. I'd think "I wonder if that freak on Oprah ever had to do this and if she did, what kind of sick joy did she derive from it?"

I also thought of her on the day that Leo the tire guy swindled me into thinking that he'd have me and my 3 small children in and out of his tire station in 20 minutes tops.

And I thought of her last night at the dinner table when I blew up at Mr. C because the kids weren't eating their dinner. It went like this:

Me: J, Princess G, EAT YOUR DINNER! J, use your fork. You're getting food all over the table and the floor. Princess G, stop taking pretend bites. You get 2 minutes to finish and then I'm taking your plate away and THAT'S ALL TILL BREAKFAST. MR. C-don't you dare roll your eyes and get angry at me. You're not the one cleaning up the kitchen and dealing with this 3 times a day. I'm trying to teach our children to be civilized and not eat like monkeys!

In that moment I bet Mr. C would have loved to be married to a woman who loves every single second of motherhood. That woman probably never yells at her children or her husband. But I don't know how to do that. I mean, I don't know how to do that without the assistance of valium or alcohol. Frankly, I don't think that woman knew how to do that either. I think that lady was a big, fat liar. And on national television, too! Shame on her!

I do know this though: I am a good mom. I'm a good mom because I'm authentic. I'm real. I don't pretend with my feelings. My kids know when I'm angry and they know when I'm annoyed, but they also know that I love them and that I'm proud of them every day. And yep, I make a lot of mistakes. A lot. Especially with my stepson. But I try to apologize for them, because I want all the kids to learn that their actions affect others. I'm pretty sure I'm making good progress with that. Except with Mr. C, who I think thinks that I want him to think that I'm perfect. Which I kind of do. But that's another blog. Or maybe another episode of Oprah.

You all have a good day!