Monday, February 9, 2015

Parents are people too. (We're just not supposed to show it.)

I excused myself from the dinner table early tonight. Usually we all stay until the bitter end but tonight I could tell the guys could use a little Mama-free time. No, I'm not psychic. But I'm not deaf either. When Liam stage whispered to Bill, "Don't take it personally, she's been like this all day..." I knew no one would mind if I slipped into the office while they finished their dinner.

Of course, the office is right off the kitchen so I can hear every word they're saying. And holy hell is it brutal.

The way they're talking makes me sound like the worst. There are times I would have easily agreed with them but not tonight. Tonight it feels like I'm being thrown under the bus. I mean, I know I wasn't the best this afternoon, but the worst? No way. I mean, we made tortillas from scratch together! And if they hadn't been fighting and slamming doors and screaming at each other and being jealous and hurtful and not listening, none of this would have happened in the first place.

I know.

I'm supposed to be the adult. It's my job to rise above and be the bigger person. To not let my feelings get hurt when my kids say mean things. To keep being patient even when it's not working. When nothing's working. To go back to the tool box to find something else to try. To try ALL the things. Happily! Patiently! Without ever snapping or messing up or dropping the ball!

Even when they're fighting.

And whining.

And getting on my last nerve.

That's the deal, right?

Yes. That's the deal. And OH MY GOD is it hard sometimes.

I've been trying so hard lately. To be more fun and more patient and more playful and just across the board BETTER. And it's been really good. It has. We've had some of our best times as a family in the last couple of weeks. Which is why, I think, tonight really hurt.

Because you don't stop being a person when you become a parent.

So, as immature as it sounds, it still hurts when my kids say mean things or don't appreciate me. Especially when I'm trying so hard. Which sucks because, hello?! That's basically the job description. Right after, "You will work 24 hours a day every day for FREE. And people will pee on you." No one tells you when you take the job that you're not allowed to have bad days or hurt feelings anymore. You find that out the hard way. So suck it up, Mama! It's someone else's job to scream and slam the door now. Your job is to take it like a man.



It's times like these I am beyond grateful that I can slap off with Bill. No one has fought or screamed or said anything mean (except about me) since I disappeared into my office. How that is even possible after the way they were acting earlier, I have no idea. But I'm glad it is. And I'm super glad the boys have someone to bitch about me to. I'm sure that will be probably be super helpful in the long run.

They can keep exaggerating about how awful I am all night long but I know the truth. I might not be perfect but I definitely do some things right. Like walking away from that table. It might not sound like a win but it was probably one of the best parenting moves I made all day. And, since victories in motherhood can be few and far between (another part of the job you have to learn the hard way...), I'll take whatever comes my way.

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