Monday, November 12, 2012

Mommy Meltdown


A couple of days ago I had a full-on mommy melt down.  Surely, I’m not the only one to have one of these.  Mine started like this.

Hudson: Mommy.  Mommy.  Mommy.  Mommy
Kenzie:  MOMMYYYYYYYYY!
Hudson: Mommy.  Mommy.  Can I have a cup of water?  I want to see what happens to moon dough when you drop it in water?
Me:  Sure…..here.

Agreeing to water–soaked moon dough was the first sign of a crack in my psyche.  The second came after I saw the end result of allowing your children to play with a combination of water and moon dough with minimal adult supervision.

Hudson:   Can I use the big sweeper?  Kenzie made a mess with the moon dough.

Ever see a monkey flinging it’s own poo at the zoo…yeah, it kinda looked like that in my dining room…except with moon dough, not poop.  Enter crack in psyche number 2.

“Both of you get in here and pick up every last piece of moon dough!  You know what?!  This is just going in the trash!”

I went to get the “big sweeper” and vacuum up moon dough remnants.  I finished and then went to put it up again.

And then I stepped on a Cheerio.

The sound of that Cheerio breaking symbolized all that was wrong in my life that day.  It reminded me that no matter how many times I picked up the Cheerios there would always be more Cheerios.  Not whole Cheerios that you can easily pick up.  Crushed Cheerios that are ground into the carpet and the upholstery.  It was a reminder that no matter how much I cleaned I would never be ahead.  It symbolized how sometimes I feel like I just suck at being a stay at home mom.  And it made me wonder why I even buy the damn Cheerios in the first place.

Then I cried.  I cried because sometimes I just want my life to be about more than picking up Cheerios, moon dough, and on one occasion, freeze-dried parsley.  I just wanted one moment where someone didn’t need me.

My poor husband came home from his night shift to a sobbing, PJ-wearing wife.  He graciously took the kids out for little bit so I could nap and regain my sanity, which made me feel even worse.  I felt horrible that my husband who had worked at night was staying up to do this.  I felt horrible that my kids had seen me have a complete crazy moment meltdown.

I took a shower and washed away the crazy.  We went to lunch.  We went to the bookstore.  I colored with the kids and life went on as usual.  And it was good.

I now know that the fact that my kids saw me get upset is not the end of the world.  That’s life.  Sometimes it gets a little nutty and sometimes we get a little nutty too.  I just hope they know that after a while you’ve just got to dust off the Cheerio crumbs and carry on.

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