I Call Bull$hit!

I’m on tear this week. I don’t know what has come over me. I really do enjoy looking at other people’s blogs. I tend to linger over the blogs where moms do crafts with their children. Don’t they all look beautiful? In their photos taken with a DSLR sumpin sumpin, the children are smiling and laughing. They are giddily covered in glue and sparkles. I look at those posts and I beat myself up because I am most definitely not one of those mommies.

Not me

I am occasionally inspired to do something crafty, but far too often my real personality emerges from the depths of my Zoloft-induced calm. It’s all smoke and mirrors, believe me. Glue drips on the floor, Kate eats a handful of sparkles, a glass of milk spills, and someone paints the dog. I tell myself that those perfect, happy mommies would snap photos of these mishaps and make it all look so fun. I have a theory that they do these things so shitty mommies like me can log on and wallow in our shittiness. (Alternatively, maybe I’m just paranoid.) Whatever the case may be, I am not capable of being that mommy. I’ve tried. Sure, I’ve experienced a random Perfect Mommy day every now and again, but mostly those days are elusive for people like me. I don’t want craft paint on my freshly painted walls. I don’t want to have to give the dog an unscheduled bath. I don’t want to wipe Kate’s butt, see the forgotten sparkles in her poo and momentarily panic that she has contracted some kind of rare twinkling shit disease. I… don’t… want…that.

I think I’m coming unhinged. I can’t tell you the last time that David and I were really alone together, or if we were alone, that I didn’t worry that all I had to talk about was the children. I don’t want to be that wife. Lately, I fear that David and I are losing each other as we traverse the perils of parenthood. I am turning into a harpy.

courtesy Google image search

Yesterday I spent the day nursing the mother of all sinus headaches. The kind of headache that makes me press too hard on my right temple and cheek bone to relieve the pain. He came home with medicine and sent me to bed. He played with the children and tucked them in. He’s incredible. We sleep next to each other. He cooks breakfast. I cook dinner. We watch television and talk about the kids, his job and my writing. We go to bed. We are never alone.

Last night, under David’s watch, Kate took her poo-filled diaper off and slid her dirty hiney across the couch. I heard him discovering the skid mark and mentally noted that tomorrow I would need to wash the slipcover. Tomorrow I will do this mothering, housework, grocery shopping ‘thing’ all over again. And again the day after that. I will become more and more unappealing, uninteresting, old, and cynical. I will wash the slipcover, I will blog about it and make it look fun. I will hope that when the dust settles, that my husband and I are still able to make one another laugh those fantastic laughs we used to share.

CREDIT: Lange, Dorothea, photographer. β€œDestitute pea pickers in California. Mother of seven children. Age thirty-two. Nipomo, California,” February-March 1936. Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress. Reproduction Number LC-DIG-fsa-8b29516.

I drank a glass of wine and took NyQuil Sinus PM. Within a half hour, my head was deliciously floating somewhere near the ceiling and I thought, Jesus…this is great. I remembered that alcoholism is hereditary. I thought of those stories of mommies who hide their vodka in the laundry room. I remembered bad things and drunken grown-ups who seemed huge, out of control and scary. I went to sleep and dreamed of Florida.

Today I will go to the grocery store and I will do the laundry. I’ll make dinner in my new crockpot and I will accept that it’s okay to feel lost every now and then. I think some of those perfect mommies might feel that way too sometimes, they just don’t write about it.

Hey, if you like No. 7…Thanks! That’s enough. Thanks for reading.

Comments

  1. Barbara DeLaurier says:

    Don't you just love slipcovers.

  2. I think you just said out loud all the things I have been thinking. Tonight, my husband and I had our first conversation not about the child or work in almost a week. We talked about books, and it was one of the most interesting conversations of my entire day.

    While my hubs and I were wrapped up in our after dinner chat, my almost-two-year old found a pack of gum…

    *Sigh* Such is life. At least we can laugh about it and do it again tomorrow. πŸ™‚

  3. cakeologist says:

    That post made me laugh. I can relate, but I think I actually enjoy being a perfectly unperfect mommy.

  4. Rancher Mom says:

    Pft, who wants to be perfect? Perfect is boring! And besides, I don't think it exists.
    As long as our kids grow up to be respectful and giving people, that is close enough to perfect for me anyway!!

  5. Katie @ Chicken Noodle Gravy says:

    I may not be able to relate to the motherhood portion of this post, but I think anyone would be able to relate to the feeling of imperfection. The feeling that dammit, everyone else seems to have it so ALL TOGETHER, why am I the only one who seems to be falling apart!?!

    I wish I could offer some incredible words of comfort. About how all those other idiots are just pretending and better at hiding their messes. About how they probably live a shallow existence that doesn't come close to the amazing and fulfilling life you have (even if your's has the occasional skid mark on the couch). I wish I could say something that could make you feel better, but I'm not good at that sort of thing.

    I can only say that I can relate to your feelings, and I've been there myself (although not about being a mother…I'm sure when I'm a mother my feelings of insufficiency will grow tenfold…something to look forward to!).

  6. I totally wasn't laughing AT you throughout this post…to be honest though…I was cracking up!

    The sprinkle filled poo…the poo covered slipcover…oh my goodness!

    I am so glad we met in the Stop n' Shop aisles!

    We may have different parenting styles, but that's ok!! You make me laugh & giggle & {almost} pee my pants ('cause you know what happens after 3 kids!)

    I LOVE reading this!!! So keep writing!!!

  7. I hear ya things are never perfect.

  8. Cherie @ Lots of Jewels' Blog says:

    You are a hoot, I love this post. My feelings exactly. Now my kids are 11 and 16 years old. But I had those days, kids hanging off the grocery cart, my son chewing on the packaged sausage, my daughter using marker and painting her entire body!! Same day sh*tiness can be awful, but trust me when I say it will get better!

    Please keep writing 'cause you are really funny and you need to put them in a book. Then when you make a ton of money you can hire someone else can clean that skid mark!

    Cherie

  9. Jennifer Kay says:

    I have a four and two year old so yes we do have the occasional craft gone right but most of my days are everything else gone wrong. Nobody takes pictures of their babies in sweat pants with muddy hands on a cold Michigan day because…it's just not cute.

    I feel most accomplished on a day that everyone gets their toenails and fingernails cut, it's like a super victory in my book.

  10. I think that every mother, even the "perfect" ones can relate. Even if they don't admit it. Being perfect is just to damn hard AND we don't want to send this message to our children. Then they will try and be perfect as well.It will be a vicious ugly cycle. That's a lot of pressure on them. Showing imperfection shows reality. (as I am enjoying a glass of red)
    xxoo

  11. I showed my husband that photo of the lioness and he just raised his eyebrows in understanding. I am that lioness all the time. At least you're acknowledging your inner-harpy and appreciating what he does πŸ˜‰

  12. I have a friend who is like that. Posts constant art projects, outings etc. And then one day she posted that she just wasn't feeling it lately. That she was struggling even to get out of the house, much less play with her son and organize crafts. And I told her I wanted to give her a big THANK YOU because I was reading her blog thinking she was perfect and feeling much like you feel in this post. My point is we don't always blog about real life. I know I for one blog to remember my son's childhood, and I don't want to remember the bad moments. But I do try to keep a balance because Lord knows I am NOT perfect in the least. So keep in mind that these blogs of arts and crafts and happy clean smiling kids? Those are the moments that happened after the huge melt down, and right before child 1 slapped child 2 in the face with the paint brush.

  13. Yes. My God. Yes. I could have written this post. It is a daily struggle to keep my posts happy and uplifting. Although sometimes my inane sarcasm peeps out uncontrollably and I cringe as I hit the "post" button. It is what it is right? As I type this I have a stain of unknown origin on my couch and black jiffy feet. Because lets face it, when you have your first free second to yourself who the hell wants to mop the tile? I LOVE the lioness picture. I've seen it as an "Inspiration poster" and the bottom word was just simple: "Marriage". My husband is always gone so I'm perpetually harpy . . .by the way of Skype. πŸ™‚ Poor him. Hey, it's almost the weekend?!

  14. Lindsey says:

    Perfectly written. I dwell on how my husband and I act to each other often. Did I remember to kiss him goodnight? Did I ask him how his day was? Did I even talk to him today?
    Sorry about the slip cover poo. That sucks balls.
    Hope your Friday is a bit more enjoyable!

  15. I think the ennui sets in no matter what we're doing. Even the crafty moms who lie about their true feelings to make their families look good. We all have our proverbial shit-smeared slipcovers to deal with. Your description of your time spent with David sounds eerily familiar. Yikes. Is this what it all boils down to? Hope tomorrow's a better day for you!

  16. melody-mae says:

    such a great and honest post…rest assured that everyone feel this way at some point. My girls are grown now but, when they were small and I was in the 'middle' of it all…there were days I thought I would not survive!! That I would go crazy! Know this my love, this to shall pass! Someday you and your hubbie will be reconnecting…you will have an empty nest and you will wonder where the heck the time went! And you know what? Although I love my kids like CRAZY big time, I am truly enjoying this empty nest thing!!!

    hang in there kiddo…if you need to talk, I am here for ya!

  17. Hey. I think that from about August of last year to January of this year.. this was the underlying theme in many of my posts. I still have an unpublished post. Unpublished because it and I am still too. Emotionally raw. Egads. I'm commenting via phone so is why poor grammar. Love you realhard though.

  18. Elena (Running in Heels After Child) says:

    I have a theory that moms who act like everything is perfect, they have perfect kids, who they craft with all the time, perfect husband, a clean house, and I am sure have an endlessly exciting sex life. My theory is they are full of shi*. They are on happy pills just like the rest of us, and they loose there mind with there husband and there kids.

    They just fake it well.

    It is almost friday.

    elena

  19. beautifully written * cheers to sprinkles of bliss scattered thru "I'm going to lose my mind" moments … bein' a ma ain't no joke πŸ˜‰ u just played a tune for all moms that are simply trying to do our best * happy friday ~ ~ ~

  20. shah wharton says:

    Loved reading that, as ever! Perfection is over rated. Oh and I'm following on BUZZ too now. Im here from the hop – Shah from wordsinsync.blogspot.com X

  21. shah wharton says:

    PS – I had the B/W pic on my wall as a student. Something about it seriously touched me. It's beautiful. Haven't seen it for years.

  22. It reminds me that countless women who came before me lived through hell and didn't have time to worry about being perfect. Her face tells me to quit whining and be thankful that I'm not living in a tent with my family in the dustbowl during the Great Depression.

    Thanks y'all for the giggles and the hugs. This was kind of a schizo post. If you can't find humor in a skid mark, then you're in serious trouble.

  23. Midnight Oil Momma says:

    Oh wow! I can't even get dressed until about noon anymore. A four year old and twin 5 month old girls consume me. Crafts…HA! That would be my son 'scissoring' as he calls it on random pieces of paper. Love your post! Hope you can have some quiet hubby time sometime soon!

  24. Lynne:::: says:

    Then you need to read mine because I'm not perfect – I sure wish I was but it's not normal – Facebook makes me think that everyone lives a perfect life, except me!

  25. Mommy used to be so pretty... says:

    Hee hee…

    you will like my post today.

    WITH photos.

    I freaking love your writing, and wish we could go get coffee…or wine…or zoloft…or all three???

    Delight!

  26. Very well said! I feel the same too when I go through other blogs and their life seem perfect. I have to admit, I am one of those bloggers who just write about the good stuff and not dwell on the bad stuff and frustrations that happens daily. I am documenting N's 1st year so she can read about it when she is older so I have to watch my language too. A lot of times though, I just wish that I can just bitch and complain in my blog and just scream FUUUUUUUCK!!!! but I try my best not to. Sometimes I even think about starting another blog where I can be free to truly express myself but the thought of dealing with more than one blog tires me already! Hell, I'm already struggling to keep my blog up and can't afford one more.

    I guess it is human nature to want something you don't have because when I read your blog and other blogs like yours, I envy how you guys can truly express yourselves without censoring anything.

    What I get from reading your blog is you are a very smart, gorgeous, confident and strong individual… and I know I've mentioned this several times but I'm going to say it again, YOU ARE A DAMN GOOD WRITER! I am sure a lot of your readers want to be just like you the same way you try to be the "craftsy mom" but here's the deal… crafts can be learned and anybody can try making stuff, all you have to do is follow instructions… BUT what you have is something has to be born with!

    I hope you feel better! xoxo

  27. Lexie Lane says:

    Wow! This is like someone just said most of what's in my head! You are so funny! Thanks for this!
    Lexie Lane
    http://www.voiceboks.com

  28. I just want you to know that I swear I hear my own voice when I read this. I LOVE your blog. And that is one of my favorite "Great Depression" type pics. I used to have a print of it when I lived alone before I had kids because it just looked to me what motherhood would feel like. (ironic, right?).

    And the depression…and the sinus shit…Jesus. Me too. Just trying to get through the days without becoming a totally evil failure of a person.

    Good to know it isn't only me.

  29. Starthrower says:

    No.7 I am following you because I really like your writing not because you are my 7th follower πŸ™‚

  30. Heather says:

    Hahah, I haven't reached the point of booty skids across my couch, but I am certainly thankful for slip covers (even if they themselves are a huge pain in the ass to take off) for when it does happen…

    Great blog, found you in Bloggy Moms. I'm in Maine too & dream of Florida a lot as well. πŸ˜‰

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