I spend a bit of time each day checking out some of my favourite mommy blogs. It is a bit lame, I know, but since I started blogging I have become a bit of an addict of them. On most days, I love them, I learn from them, I laugh from them, I understand and relate to them. On days like this...................oh no.
On those days that I have had to either 1) randomly scream at the top of my lungs to vent out frustration 2) talk sarcastically and angrily at my child 3) get the children dressed as fast as possible to get them outside in order to avoid a complete mommy meltdown or (and this is my all time favourite) 4) hide out in the bathroom to cry out some frustration. alone. for two fucking seconds. (a tactic that stopped working since the toddler learned how to turn the door knob) Or, on a day like today, where I have had to practice all four, those blogs seemed to be filled with fluff.
It seems as if every other mother on earth is living in this bubble completely and constantly blissed out by their children. There is outright braggery about the amazing, bonding, beautiful experiences they have with their kids, all the fun time craft time play time good times that they ALWAYS have with their absolutely perfect children and their flawless selves. It makes me feel alien. Like I am missing that essential mommy element that all the rest of the women in the world were born with. That, comes so easy, mom element. That, I was born-to-mother-these-children- and-I-know-exactly-how-to-do-it-without-fucking-my-kids-up element that somehow missed me in the delivery.
Am I a bad mom? This question enters my mind every single day. Am I screwing my kids up with my inability to constantly keep it together. Am I the reason for the whining and the neediness? I can see my children as flawless and beautiful and amazing because they are, but somehow this motherhood thing has made me take a deeper and much more critical look at myself. Who am I? What kind of person am I trying to be? What kind of mother do I want to be? A loving one. Always. But holy crap, what do I do with all this frustration? How are those moms so nice and reasonable and mom-like all the time? What am I missing?
For one thing, I am still wondering when I will graduate to an adult sized emotional stability.When will I finally stop feeling like an extremely hormonal 15 year old girl? When shall I depart that roller coaster ride? Good lord.........
The only thing that makes sense to me right now is a new episode of Grey's Anatomy (judge me if you must), a glass (or two) of wine and a shit load of Easter chocolate. Thank you Easter Bunny!