Mommy Confessions (Australia?)

Last night, after reading my daughter her bedtime story, I too recall having “terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad days, and wished I could move to Australia (we all know the book).


In fact, I find myself all too often wishing I were anywhere, but home, in the chaos I call life. It got me thinking – and while reading this page, I seriously laughed-out-loud…

“I hope you sit on a tack, I said to Paul. I hope the next time you get a double-decker strawberry ice-cream cone the ice cream part falls off the cone and lands in Australia.”

Seriously…passive aggressive much? This is totally how my husband thinks, not so much me. However, there are those days that I am so angry I secretly wish my daughter’s  ice cream would fall on the floor. I guess because I wish that would be my biggest problem, and because sometimes triggering an inevitable tantrum can be pretty funny. Yep, it is definetley not because I don’t want her to be able to eat the sugary treat (that I can no longer have btw). A mere floor fallage wouldn’t stop her anyway… no surrey bob. She would just pick it up and gobble it right up. True story. I am not a real germaphobe so as long as it is theirs, it hasn’t been on the ground too long (say, more than 1 hour), and it did not fall in a puddle of water (I read that is where the real germs lie), then they can eat it. Why the hell not. I am past the point of social acceptance. Yesterday, I held my daughter in roman chair position so she could pee in a park bush {and all over my flip flop and toes}. Who hasn’t?

Other noteworthy times, maybe I should have moved to Australia…

~ There are days that my daughter unknowingly has 2 hours of quiet time, just so I don’t have to interact with her
1. because sometimes I can’t stand the sound of her voice
2. because I just don’t want to be a mom
3. because I need to recharge ALONE

~ One time I grabbed her cheeks to quiet her, while maintaining a face of rage (this is my least proud mommy moment) and teeth clenched. No wonder I am now a teeth grinder.
-later she told me I was the “meanest mommy in the whole world, and I hurt her feelings”. Heart strings, pulled.

~Sometimes, when the boy doesn’t stop whining and follows me around pulling at me, I open the front door to “let him out”, like a dog.
– with no intentions of going after him I might add (but shouldn’t).

~ Many days I find myself having zero energy.
– the little I have left, is definitely not being spent in the bedroom.

~ I wish for everyone to feel the way I do.
– I assure you, I am no sadist. Just a good ol fashion, misery loves company kind of gal.

~Oh, I should mention that I love being a mom. Truly, and whole heartedly. It is the HARDEST thing I have ever done, and I am hoping the most rewarding too. I am not sure if I can totally say that yet.

I can say, in all certainty that in one split second, all of these terrible, horrible, moments go away with one, “Mommy, I love you”, or bitsa bitsa boy signing or saying a new word, a giggle, a smile, a silly face, a naked butt (even better a naked butt bathtub fart), or with a single hug, or better yet, a group “family hug.”


I can tell you, that I have apologized to my mom for all the times I said, “eww, I don’t want ______ for dinner” after she worked hard at work all day, and hard on making sure we ate dinner as a family every night (something I take pride in myself).

After my mom spent 3 days with me, and my children, she told me “I should go back to work, and that what I am doing is WAY harder than working!”

I won’t lie, it felt good for her to say that.

Kind of like watching my daughters rainbow sherbert scoop of ice cream fall onto the concrete…but even better!

It is hard. It is fun.

Many times I feel incapable.

I have felt like a failure, on more than one occasion.

BUT, there is always a but.

I am doing the best I can, with what I have got. Aren’t we all?

Happy early Mother’s Day y’all!

~Magazine Mom


2 thoughts on “Mommy Confessions (Australia?)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s