Throughout the day I am nothing special to look at.
My ears are not embellished with diamond earrings, my face is not enhanced by makeup like it once was, my hair is not styled and I’m usually not wearing real clothes.
I’m a hot mess.
…minus the hot.
I’m just a mess.
When my kids look at me throughout our long day together, they witness some pretty bad moments, moments that I am not proud of. Emotions get the best of me sometimes and I tend to beat myself up for that.
I get frustrated with my toddler who won’t get off of me. I am just trying to unload the dishwasher so his father thinks I did something today while he was away at work, but my son won’t let go of my leg. I get agitated. I snap at him, telling him to go to the playroom and to play with his cars, “Mommy needs to work!“.
It’s no secret that I am upset.
I wish he couldn’t see the frustrated look all over my face and only see me shut the dishwasher, take his hand, and lead him to the playroom where I sit in front of him and start running his train around a train track. Choo-Choo! – sound effects included of course.
I don’t want him to see me angry. The dishes can wait. Unfortunately, they will still be there waiting for me at nap time. I’ll do them then. Maybe.
My husband is gone, away on business and I am lonely. I am not as cheerful as I usually am. There is no smile on my face. I hope my kids can’t tell that I feel alone, I hope they only can see the love I have for their Daddy as I hug him and light up when he finally walks in the door.
I hope they can also see that I love him as I immediately hand off a child and say, “she’s got a poopy diaper” and walk into another room. There is love there, I promise. It’s just buried under stress.
I look gross. I haven’t showered in a couple days and it’s very obvious. I hope my kids don’t see me for what I really am, that train-wreck mom that I said I would never be. I hope they only see that I have spent the last two days playing with them constantly because I felt that this was more important than making myself somewhat presentable. I only get them this small and playful for a short amount of time. I don’t want any moments slipping past me. I want to soak them all in, trying to make all the memories stick, never to be forgotten.
The baby starts crying. She is constantly wanting to be held. I suspect that teething is the culprit. I hope they don’t see me slam the dryer door shut out of frustration and only see me walk back into the room and tend to my crying daughter. The laundry can wait. I’ll just pray that wrinkly clothes become a fashion trend for 2016. We would be so on trend.
Dinner time is the worst. It’s the hardest hour of the day. I’m at my breaking point, the kids are at their breaking point, but apparently we need to eat food to survive, so dinner must be made. I literally screamed into my freezer the other night as both children threw temper tantrums behind me. Sadly, my kids did see that.
I hope they also saw how I collected my screaming self, turned around, and tried my best to make everyone happy regardless of my own feelings. There I stood, prepping dinner while holding my two-year-old who just wanted Mommy’s attention at the worst time possible.
I am so tired. I hope they don’t see me dragging my feet as I follow them into their room to read books. I hope they don’t notice that my character voices are less animated than normal. Daddy-bear doesn’t have the over exaggerated manly tone he usually does, baby-bear isn’t as whiny as normal (because I just can’t deal with anymore whiny, even if it is in bear form), and Mommy-bear just kind of sounds like my normal voice.
I’m not an I don’t give a crap mother. I do care how my children see me. I do know that I am not perfect, but I will always be striving to be the best mother I can be, not only for my children but for myself as well. I want to look back on my time I had with them and say that I did everything I could to be happy and show my children what a happy Mommy looks like.
I hope that when my kids look at me they don’t see how hard this Mom gig can be. One day, when they have kids of their own, they’ll see for themselves.
But today I just want them to see me and have no doubts that I love being a mom.
-Until the next time this Redhead rambles.
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