I am the worst mother on the planet. My kids' room was a disaster today. Dis. As. Ter. Seriously.
I was pretty ok until I went into the closet. And then, I freaked. Big time. I have moaned here before about the toys, the messes, the disorganization. I'm not going there again in detail. Suffice it to say there were dirty clothes in the art supplies, missing jackets turned up in the dress-up box, Legos and K'Nex and god-knows-what-else are all mixed up in tubs, and I was done.
I screamed. And threw things. And shouted at my children that someone should go downstairs and get daddy so that he could keep me from killing them.
Garrett's response to this was, "I don't want you to kill me. I just want to live my life!" Oh Lord. I didn't know whether to laugh or keep crying hysterically that I cannot parent my children in an effective manner to avoid this situation.
Leaving our house this week: multiple Rescue Heroes along with Command Centers and backpacks. Two mini Rescue Hero sets. Plastic tubes to make marble runs. Marbles. A gorgeous black hobby horse (the kind on a stick). A pop-up play tent that looks like a school bus. Several stuffed animals, including two orangutans from Bonfante Gardens that shed green and blue fuzz all over everything. Bags of trash. Bags, people. Plural. Ugh. Several board books. A large Rubbermaid tote full of dress up clothes, including but not limited to: a Superman costume; a Spiderman costume; an Incredible Hulk costume; a firefighter costume with a helmet that has a light and siren; 2 knight's costumes complete with helmet, breastplate, shield and cape; a princess skirt and shiny silver cape, a London Bobby's helmet, an astronaut helmet and several doctor's tools.
I have apologized to my children for flying off the handle. We have discussed why the scenario occurred and how we can all work together to make sure it doesn't happen again. In other words, I handled it basically the same way I handle it every time I freak out about this.
In the meantime, I am asking Rob to transfer more stock into their UTMA accounts. We're not saving for college, we're saving for therapy.
Mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend. Scrapbooker, family historian, reader, cook, photographer. Volunteer. Political junkie. Springsteen fan. Loves deeply, strives daily to be a cheerful, kind and generous person. Fails regularly. Snarky, judgy and more than a little blunt. Some people don't appreciate my style. If you're one of them, that's ok. Get your own blog.
I love when you post things like this because they are things I can see myself doing so easily. Since I *know* you are an awesome mom it gives me some hope for myself.
ReplyDeleteSorry your day was a hard one :(
I am proud of you for letting go all those things. I read your list and thought...oh, those are good things, why is she getting rid of them? And then I think, THAT is exactly why my own house is a mess. I must repeat the mantra "It is okay to get rid of PERFECTLY GOOD THINGS. They can still be PERFECTLY GOOD for someone else." Ugh.
ReplyDeleteI'm sending you a couple of pics...watch for them.
P.S. If you're the worst mother in the world, I'm the worstest!
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ReplyDeleteWe've all been there!
ReplyDeleteA personal example, with a twist...
When my sister and I were young'ns, my mom would come home from work(3am) and drag our butts out of bed if we neglected to finish our chores, put things away, clean up after ourselves etc... She would yell bloody murder, BREAK our toys, threaten our lives! And you know what? I DON't think to myself, "Gee, what a nut case!" I instead think, "Gee, we really should have put the damn toys away." I mean, the woman was working really hard... We should have been more respectful to our mother and done what little she asked.
So don't worry about blowing up. We all do it.
You are SOOO not the worst mommy on the planet...we have all been there, knee deep in toys and screaming at our kids. Trust me on this one.
ReplyDeleteI remember when I came to visit that the boys had toys in "jail."
ReplyDelete