The Other Days

And some days I completely lose it.

Some days, I decide at the last minute to go to morning Mass.  I do this because Magoo likes it.  I do this because I believe it’s important for the little two to learn to be respectful and reverent during those times.  I do it to pray for my family and ask God to bless us all.  And I do it to find peace.

But some days when I go to that Mass, Mae spends half the time screaming about poop.  Then she takes off around church and gets what seems to be about a quarter of a mile away before I catch her because it looks inappropriate for a two year old to run screaming through church, but it looks much worse for a 37 year old to do so.

And then we go to the grocery store.  I do this to feel on top of things.  So I can get what we need early in the day so I don’t have to worry about it.  But the little two spend the whole time asking over and over and over again if they can ride the horse.  And I tell them that they cannot because they did not behave in church.  Apparently this does not register in their cute little ear canals because they just ask again.

And then we get home, and I cave in and put them in front of the television (you might see smoke coming out of their ears from their brains that were fried from too much television) so that I can sit in the kitchen in peace and have a cup of coffee.  During this brain frying, I put on an inspirational podcast about making my home environment conducive for peace and spirituality.  I bark whenever anyone comes in the room.

And then I finally get up from coffee and I mad clean my house.  I do this to make myself feel better.  But I quickly realize that cleaning a house that isn’t too dirty doesn’t actually make it look any different, and as such, I feel no better.  I ignore the bathroom which is the one room that really could use some cleaning.

So it’s time for lunch.  And I make my kids orange chicken thinking they will thank me for this.  I could be wrong, but I don’t think those screams and tears were coming from joy.  I could never be sure because I couldn’t make out words through the gnashing of teeth.  At least the dog is enjoying it as I am sure she is currently standing on my kitchen table eating out of their long since abandoned bowls.

All I know is that instead of eating their lunch, they are now following me around telling me that their heads are too cold and that they really want to clean the ottoman instead of eating their chicken.

And I want to be graceful and kind.  I want to show them mercy.  I want to sit down and give them the hugs that they probably need.  It’s when we act the least loving, after all, that we need the most love.

And I know I will do those things in about thirty seconds after I hit post, but right now, I just want to take a moment to say that I don’t want to.

I am tired.  And I just don’t want to be the bigger person.  I don’t want to turn the other cheek.  I don’t want to give until it hurts.  I don’t want to dry tears that were spawned from anger at me.  I don’t want to start to prepare a dinner no one will want.  I don’t want to clean a floor they will just mess up again.

I just don’t want to.

But I will because I am Mom and that’s what moms do.  Even when we don’t want to.  Even when we really, really don’t want to.