Some days, I literally feel like I am going crazy. I wonder if I can make it through another day. Then, I feel guilty for feeling this way. Am I the only one who does crap like this? Am I the only one who is losing it?
I can’t be the only one that wants to scream “TALK AMONGST YOUR GODDAM SELVES!” when members at the family party are watching (staring) in horrified silence as my kid throws a ridiculous whopping fit.
I can’t be the only one who crosses my fingers that my own strep throat test comes back positive so that I can be quarantined for 24 hours until the antibiotics kick in.
I can’t be the only one who simply cannot answer the phone at times because the noise level in my house is just plain embarrassing.
I can’t be the only one who has to wear big sunglasses to hide the fact that I just got done crying my eyes out because I’m so freaking overwhelmed.
I can’t be the only one who has to try and not laugh when my toddler drops something and then says, “oh shit!” even though I feel the mom fail alarm going off in my head.
I can’t be the only one who sometimes wants to call my mama and have her come and make everything alright like she did when I was a little girl.
I can’t be the only one who feels like when it comes to parenting, I have no idea what the hell I am doing.
I can’t be the only one who wants to put my children in a bubble so that I can protect them from everything, even though I know logically that I can’t.
I can’t be the only one who drives down the road with my kids safely buckled in the backseat of the minivan listening to loud music and daydreaming about literally swinging from a chandelier while drinking champagne and wearing a silver tutu, because I need a break so damn bad that I’d go wild if I ever got one.
I can’t be the only one who mentally tells my kids to shut the hell up.
I can’t be the only one who feels guilty if I let my kids spend way too much time on the XBOX and i-pad and television because it’s the only way I can get anything done.
I can’t be the only one who feels like I nag my husband all the freaking time, even though he needs what I refer to as, “guidance.”
I can’t be the only one who carries toy cars, diapers and lip gloss around in my purse all laying on top of finely crushed animal crackers.
I can’t be the only one who is ready for bed at 3 p.m. every.single.day.
I can’t be the only one who feels alone.
I sometimes honestly feel like I am the only one who can’t get it right. When I see that family out at a restaurant and their children AREN’T acting like maniacs, or I see people’s pictures on Facebook where everyone is smiling and no one is bleeding…I can’t help but question what the hell I’m doing wrong. Why do I feel like a lesser mother? It can be a very lonely place. That’s why once in a while, I do have to call my mom and ask her to come over and help me feel better. My husband has to help me too. I have to stay in touch with other moms, even the ones who seem to have all their shit together. This is why I read “mom blogs” and this is also EXACTLY why I write them. We have to stick together. I will admit that I need support. I think the saying, “it takes a village,” does not only apply to children, but to moms as well. Look, Carol Brady had Alice. The Jetson’s had Rosie. Even on Full House it took two ass clowns, a smokin’ hot man sent straight from the Greek Gods (Uncle Jesse), and an Aunt Becky to raise those girls, remember that shit? I may not ever figure all this out. I may not have a single picture with all my kids looking at the camera, or a single day without a meltdown, but with the support that I lean on to get me through, I will do this. But I won’t do it alone. I just can’t be the only one.
As always…share if you like or more so, if you relate. Thanks a million!