One of the nice things about writing this blog is when one of you comment that I make you feel normal, because really, when I write this stuff, that's exactly what I'm looking for: a connection with all of you, a validation that what I'm feeling is what other people are feeling. Let's face it: most of the time, I have no idea what I'm doing, and I'm okay with that, as long as none of you know what you're doing either. We're all in this together.
Except for today. Today I need to believe that I have THE MOST DIFFICULT CHILDREN IN THE WORLD. I don't want to anyone to relate, because if they related or told me I was normal, I wouldn't be able to martyr myself and sigh and feel sorry about the fact that I have THE MOST DIFFICULT CHILDREN IN THE WORLD.
Here are the things that the Most Difficult Children do that qualifies them for the title:
The Most Difficult Children tell me that they've brushed their teeth and when I clarify by asking "With toothpaste?" they said "Oh." and turn around to head back to the bathroom.
The Most Difficult Children also put on clothes that they wore yesterday and hope that I won't notice. Then, when I do, the most difficult children will wail and cry and get mad at me because I won't let them out of the house looking like homeless people. This happens repeatedly, several times a week, and they are always surprised at the fact that I won't let them wear dirty clothes. I don't understand.
The Most Difficult Children in the World will not be able to share space in the bathroom without fighting with their siblings in the bathroom about stupid stuff that has nothing to do with getting ready for the day."..... The most ironic thing about this is that one of these children have no less than three cherished shirts that say "Make Peace Happen", and she WILL BE WEARING SAID SHIRTS WHILE INSTIGATING FIGHTS OVER NOTHING. When I point this out, she says "My shirt is talking about world peace mom, not here." To which I ask, why not here? We obviously need peace to happen here, in this little, crowded bathroom more than the world needs it. We need it. I need it. So much needing of it.
The Most Difficult Children In The World listen to me lecture and yell and beg and gnash my teeth all the way to school, and then when we get there, I say "Have a good day. I hope you listen to your teachers better than you listen to me." And they exit the car and give me dirty looks that say they think I am the Meanest Mom In The World. And that makes sense, because what other kind of mom would The Most Difficult Children In The World have other than The Meanest Mom In The World?
Yes, I could have handled the morning better. I could have held my frustration in check. I could have left out the mean, martyred, guilt-trippy goodbye in the car. However, today, I'm doing away with introspection and mom-guilt. I am well-practiced in both, but I'm choosing right now to let it go. The kids hold responsibility for their behavior too, for behavior they know is not okay, that they've been told is not okay.... multiple, hundred, a million times. I am not a saint.
Except today. Today, I am saint-like. I'm going to be kind to myself and think of me in exactly that way. It's hard being the meanest mom when your kids choose to be the most difficult, and I'm still here. Still doing my job. Yay, me.
You can all be thankful that today, I own the title to Meanest Mom of the Most Difficult Children. Tomorrow I have a clean slate, so the title is up for grabs. And if this unlucky title falls to you, my friend, I will admire you and give you mad respect, because any given day that a child decides to be the Most Difficult Child, is a day that a mom needs to know that she's doing holy work. She may not be doing it perfectly, just as a lot of our saints didn't do it perfectly, but she's doing it. And that makes us saints.
Except for today. Today I need to believe that I have THE MOST DIFFICULT CHILDREN IN THE WORLD. I don't want to anyone to relate, because if they related or told me I was normal, I wouldn't be able to martyr myself and sigh and feel sorry about the fact that I have THE MOST DIFFICULT CHILDREN IN THE WORLD.
Here are the things that the Most Difficult Children do that qualifies them for the title:
The Most Difficult Children tell me that they've brushed their teeth and when I clarify by asking "With toothpaste?" they said "Oh." and turn around to head back to the bathroom.
The Most Difficult Children also put on clothes that they wore yesterday and hope that I won't notice. Then, when I do, the most difficult children will wail and cry and get mad at me because I won't let them out of the house looking like homeless people. This happens repeatedly, several times a week, and they are always surprised at the fact that I won't let them wear dirty clothes. I don't understand.
The Most Difficult Children in the World will not be able to share space in the bathroom without fighting with their siblings in the bathroom about stupid stuff that has nothing to do with getting ready for the day."..... The most ironic thing about this is that one of these children have no less than three cherished shirts that say "Make Peace Happen", and she WILL BE WEARING SAID SHIRTS WHILE INSTIGATING FIGHTS OVER NOTHING. When I point this out, she says "My shirt is talking about world peace mom, not here." To which I ask, why not here? We obviously need peace to happen here, in this little, crowded bathroom more than the world needs it. We need it. I need it. So much needing of it.
The Most Difficult Children In The World listen to me lecture and yell and beg and gnash my teeth all the way to school, and then when we get there, I say "Have a good day. I hope you listen to your teachers better than you listen to me." And they exit the car and give me dirty looks that say they think I am the Meanest Mom In The World. And that makes sense, because what other kind of mom would The Most Difficult Children In The World have other than The Meanest Mom In The World?
Yes, I could have handled the morning better. I could have held my frustration in check. I could have left out the mean, martyred, guilt-trippy goodbye in the car. However, today, I'm doing away with introspection and mom-guilt. I am well-practiced in both, but I'm choosing right now to let it go. The kids hold responsibility for their behavior too, for behavior they know is not okay, that they've been told is not okay.... multiple, hundred, a million times. I am not a saint.
Except today. Today, I am saint-like. I'm going to be kind to myself and think of me in exactly that way. It's hard being the meanest mom when your kids choose to be the most difficult, and I'm still here. Still doing my job. Yay, me.
You can all be thankful that today, I own the title to Meanest Mom of the Most Difficult Children. Tomorrow I have a clean slate, so the title is up for grabs. And if this unlucky title falls to you, my friend, I will admire you and give you mad respect, because any given day that a child decides to be the Most Difficult Child, is a day that a mom needs to know that she's doing holy work. She may not be doing it perfectly, just as a lot of our saints didn't do it perfectly, but she's doing it. And that makes us saints.
Ooooh. Your kids sound really difficult. Way more difficult than normal. I don't know how you can handle it. Do you need a hug?
ReplyDeleteMy offspring has told me that I'm "The Best Mom In The Whole Ice Kingdom" and I throw it in her face when she tells me I'm the worst mom ever. One day, when I've just fed her a huge dish of ice cream I'll get her to say those words into a recorder so I can play them back to her when she is freaking out over something ridiculous.