I want to be a man.
Or a husband. Yes, most definitely a husband.
There. I said it. Outloud so everyone can read it. (Jeff’s out-of-town, so I can say this without serious repercussions from the Youth Minister. Just don’t TELL him I’ve revealed my deepest darkest secret. I’m a WHIZ with a filet knife, duct tape, and Tupperware. I can serve you to my children for dinner and hide the bones. Just sayin.’)
But I realized the other day, being a wife/mother can REALLY seriously suck sometimes!
(I love my husband, I love my kids, that is not what this is about.)
I finally sat down after I’d worked a 9 1/2 hour day and the first words out of everyone’s mouth the second their eyeballs see my body in my chair is:
“What’s for dinner?”
Huh? Seriously? NOW? I just sat down! (If I had a dime for everytime I heard my Mom say that growing up. Sorry, Mom, for every time I asked the above question, I deeply, deeply apologize.)
I may have roughly about 5 minutes from the time the last child goes home, to sit and completely relax, all sprawled out, very unladylike, in my chair, usually with eyes closed. If I’m lucky I get 5 minutes. On Wednesday nights, because of church, I have to get dinner started at 4 for it to be ready by the time everyone is home. Then, the second Austin is home from football practice, and Mike is home from work, it’s tag-team showers, while the other is shoveling food in his face to even have a SHOT at making it to church in time.
Mike: comes home, leisurely walks around talking to all 3 of our lovely children. Forages for food. Then takes a nice, long, hot shower. Then, his butt meets his chair and he’s done for the night. Thank you, if you need me, I hold court right here….the children adore him. Here, Dad, I colored this for you….I made an A on this paper…..I farted in class today and it was the FUNNIEST thing, Dad……something something something FOOTBALL blah blah blah FOOTBALL, Dad…..
Puke.
I mean….uhhh….I’m not resentful AT.ALL. {whistling and looking around}
I get:
What’s for dinner? That again? I won’t eat that! That’s worm food, not even WORM FOOD, worms wouldn’t eat that either….That’s not nutricious enough, Mom, I have to have so many grams of carbs and so many grams of protien. Just make me a steak and I’ll eat that…..MOMMMMMMM!!! MOMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!! I NEED JUICE!……..I need jeans. No not THOSE jeans, there’s no designer label. You have a WHAT??? A COUPON? I can’t wear them if my friends ever found out they were bought with a COUPON!…….I’m out of lunch money again……..My gym/art/computer/math/english fee is due, I need X amount of dollars….THE DOG’S OUT AGAIN!
And that’s all while I’m cooking dinner.
The car needs gas, honey……can I have a few dollars for lunch…..do you have your part of the house payment yet?……..What’s that smell? Do you smell that?? It’s coming from over there…….
Whatever happened to: you look nice today, honey! Let’s go OUT to dinner tonight! WOW! Look at the house! You got a lot done today! Thanks, honey, I know how hard you work. I’m proud of you.
Where did all those words disappear to? I’m thinking they got lost somewhere in the afterbirth…..sorry to be so graphic. 
I find myself hiding some nights. Different places sometimes, but always hiding. If they find me, they’ll show me papers requesting money, or schoolwork that needs signatures because it wasn’t done. They’ll whine for clothes, shoes, juice, a “chocolate” baby, and food. If they know where I’m at, something will need to be done/fixed/or found.
Dad’s in plain sight. See him? Right there!! No, of course, I don’t mind kissing the ouchies or holding someone when they are upset or sick. But more times than not it’s:
Why do I have to go to bed at blah blah time? Everyone else my age goes to bed whenever they want to……Mom have you seen my shoes?……. MOMMMMMM! There’s something gross on my sheets, I’m not sleeping here……..So and So touched me!……Mom tell him to STOP!……….
And just about the time all the angels are in bed, the house grows quiet, the teeth are brushed, the havoc from the day has finally stopped, and I’m sitting quietly in my chair again next to my handsome, stress-free husband, I hear:
Mom? Did you do laundry? I’m out of socks/underwear/my favorite shirt/shorts. Thanks, Mom.
Love you!
OK, I guess I will stay the Mom, at least for today. I kind of like snuggling with 2 of my kids in my chair. I like having my oldest son curl up next to me in the bed to talk about his day. Painting Brooklyn’s toes is pretty special. The hugs and kisses…..and it’s me they come to when they are upset. Maybe it’s not so bad.
But I may change my mind on Monday.
First of all, how do you expect us to believe any of that when you put up such amazing, angelic, gorgeous pictures? They are angels.. each one of them! I KNOW they must rub your feet, scrub the floors, and peel grapes for you every night. Right? Well, when you write this post, you need to put up the pics of the scowls, the muddy faces, and the mess. Cause I just can’t buy it when I SEE perfection. Sorry.
In reality, you have my undying admiration. I would say that I don’t know how you do it, but I do. And I’m so thankful for that deep wellspring of faith that just never dries up inside of you. And it will get you through, even those days when there’s who-knows-what on the sheets (with boys? ewwww.. I don’t wanna know) and unidentified odors that make you think a possum must have up and died under the sink. God’s pretty good that way.
As for me… I’ve decided that I will NEVER cross you on anything again. Anyone who can filet and grill me and dispose of the remains in an orderly fashion has my respect as well as my admiration. Rock on…
Me too! Me too! (wanna be a man, that is)
My favorite place to hide is the bathroom. I lock myself in with a good book or magazine and I can usually get about 30 minutes of mostly kid free time out of it! Most of the time, they don’t even know I’m not on the pot. (Was that too graphic?)
I love the pictures. Your kids are beautiful and your oldest looks like he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’s got the look of Jesus in his eyes.
BTW, Your photography has inspired me to start writing all over my pictures!!
Hang in there, and I hope you find a REALLY good hiding spot!
Many blessings
I am so glad I am not the only one. That is all I am saying. Your children are beautiful and the place you photographed them is just divine! Being a Mom is tough…but wow the rewards are amazing (most days)
The grass isn’t always greener. But, I do think as moms we take on more than we can handle sometimes. We want to be everything to everyone—-all the time. And then after a few days, months, years….of everyone coming to us to be Superman in support tights, we crash. Heck, I can’t even hide in the bathroom because if I close the door the dog AND cat freak out and whine and scritch-scratch at the door until I open it. They blow my cover everytime!!!
Thankfully we have God to lean on.
I wanna hide, too. When find that “best” place, please move over and share with me. We’ve endured two Asperger’s meltdowns in 2 days, and I’m really tired. No one told me it would be like this.
And since I don’t have any friends except the ones who live in my computer, you get all the flack!!
And I accept your apology……now you know, huh?
gorgeous pics!
I hear ya honey. and it ain’t pretty.
my solution: work late some nights. hubby will get it going on when his belly starts growling. and i’m not home. so i say to him “good luck with that sweetie.”
it just makes mom so much more precious when she is home.
Nah! It’s not so bad! Fun post there!
Oh, this made me laugh so hard (inside of course
– I had the same thought last night, but did not voice it. We took a weekend trip away … and as you can guess, I am also the packing and unpacking specialist. We rented a cabin with kitchen, so guess what I took with us? Yes – food. And got the constant “I’m hungry, Mom” – even when I was taking a nap because I didn’t feel well!! My dd came in and woke me to tell me that she was hungry.
But – oh, yes, it’s all worth it (most of the time – lol)!
The cyclical nature of domesticity grinds me down daily. It’s difficult not to feel like I’m carrying out an exercise in futility when “tasks” are never completed, and nothing to do with home-making is EVER completed, as soon as it’s done it needs doing again.
And after all that they go “what do you mean you’re too tired for ….?”
Yeah I wanna be a man in my next life.
I SO here ya!
I’m off to have a second glass of wine and ignore the ironing now