Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Unless You're a Mom

Unless you're a mom, it may be hard to understand the emotional rolleroaster that an average day presents. If you wake up before your children, and most of us do, you gaze upon their angelic faces and feel such satisfaction that they are slumbering peacefully. Maybe you sneak off to enjoy the only moment, of that day, that you will have to yourself. I usually make myself a cup of coffee and just...sit. The stability that I enjoy in those moments won't be revisited again, until tomorrow morning.

In between those moments, I will have argued with my son about the contents of his lunch. I will have scolded him for watching television, when he was supposed to be dressing for school. I will have discovered a nasty scrape on my daughter's arm, of which I have no idea the origins. I will change the other daughter's diaper, to find a "pimple," that may very well be a more serisous infection growing. Gee, that one is in addition to the one on her thigh...the one she points to and says "oush!" I feel helpless, not being able to immediately resolve it. I take my son to school and, on the way, he tells me I am the "worst mom in the world," because I didn't let him finish watching his cartoon. My heart sinks. After dropping him off, one of my girls bursts into tears as we turn back onto our street. She does this every time we come home.

I will have to sneak out of the house to take the trash out, or endure more screaming and crying. I venture out, and as always, get caught...screaming and crying ensue. Someone comes to pick up some donation items and as I help them to their car, more screaming and crying. Sigh. I must sing several rounds of "Twinkle, twinkle, little star," to make it stop. Nothing stops the throbbing in my head though.

By this time, I will have changed 3 poopy diapers and at least 3 peepee diapers. I will have bathed one daughter, while the other one empties out the cabinet at the end of the hallway. I will dress the bathed daughter and put the other one in the bathtub, but will have to endure more screaming and crying because the girl who was bathed first, now wants to go back in.

I will have tripped on or jumped over toys strewn about the floor. I will probably step on at least one, with all my weight, and curse out loud. I will have accidentally spilled bleach on my shirt and curse out loud again. I will wonder how the table runner, from the dining room, came to be in one of the bedrooms. I will also wonder what the crunchy stuff on the back of the dog is and decide to bathe the dog outside, but get caught and have to endure more screaming and crying...more "twinkle, twinkle." I can't even count how many fights I will have to break up...how many injustices I will have to right. I will ride this train all day long...being jostled from side to side. Aggravated...heart broken...pissed off...bursting with love...all...day...long. At least until tomorrow morning. And you may not know what I'm talking about...unless you're a mom.

1 comment:

Marque and Sarah said...

Mother's do have a tough job. You write very well. I am certain Sarah can appreciate everything you said in this entry, but only 1/3 as much.