Sunday Reset: Mother’s Day Do-Over

One of the most wonderful parts of beginning this blog was finding out I am not the only totally dysfunctional Mama out there- there are so many more crazy women out in the world who are flailing through life, feeling like miserable failures and powerful gladiators at the same moment.  This was never more apparent to me than last week.  Mother’s Day not only a let-down (and not in the awkwardly-wet-booby-spot-on-your-shirt- way) for me- but many of you also had Mother’s Days that sucked!  That’s awesome!  Well, not really awesome but it made me feel like I wasn’t the only one who didn’t get breakfast in bed, only to open the silver dome over my perfectly cooked eggs (which we don’t even have, but I picture it with the dome) to find some exquisite piece of  sparkle.  Now if you were one of the ones who got the dome, good for you.  But instead of the dome, I awoke to fighting, yelling and three little pains in the ass… And a big one in the neck.  On the heels of my last post, we decided this weekend would be a Mother’s Day Do-Over.

I enjoyed tee-ball, Big Truck Day with the kiddos (with no fights or whining- shocker!), a fire in the yard, marshmallows- and plenty of chocolate- wine spritzers and a very special date with my man.  Sunday was filled with gardening, rolling in the grass with the three wonders who made me a Mama, a great workout and impromptu dinner with neighbors (which of course included more wine).  It was a wonderful Do-Over Weekend!

 

I hope that all you Mamas who had a rough Mother’s Day got your Do-Over.  It felt beyond necessary to be appreciated and my ability to not have crazy expectations enabled me to feel the joy of playing with my children.  The comfort of spending time with my husband.  To feel the love of Mamahood.  That’s what Mother’s Day is about.  I didn’t need flowers (or the fricken silver dome) to have a meaningful day.  I just needed my children.  And the handsome guy who gave these wonderful little souls to me.

But a pedicure would have been nice too…

Mama Gets Real… Toes are a wreck.

Peace, Mamas!

 

Some Love for the Husbands

I swore I wouldn’t do it but here is a post about my husband.  We had a rough weekend.  Mainly Mother’s Day kind of sucked.  But I’m glad it sucked because since, things have gotten a whole lot better.  In my last post, you may have read a bit about the terror/love that is my youngest, Zook.  He exhausts an exorbitant amount of my energy lately with his tantrums, crying and all-around-pain-in-the- assness (yes, assness is totally a word).  The self-control I have to exert is so great that I haven’t had a ton of energy left over for anything else.  Including my husband.

Growing apart is strange.  It’s such a slow process yet, when you look back, it seems like you can’t really tell quite when things got to be this way.  And to be clear, I am not really sure I’d say that we grew apart I’d just say that we became a little distant.  I of course, so consumed with the insanity of dealing with my little monster, was clueless.

So we had a fight.  On Mother’s Day.  One of those fights that starts out over something so minute that you can’t really even put your finger on it but you wish it never happened because then the snowball starts to roll… It gets bigger… It seems to be rolling so quickly and become so dense that it’s nearly impossible to stop.  You know where I’m going with this, right?  My sweet, loving sensitive husband fessed up to his feelings and I felt horrible.

I thought that we just didn’t have time for each other right now and in a few years when this crazy amusement ride slows a bit, we would be able to talk again, spend time together again.  What we both learned was something you always hear from other people, you admit that it’s true but always think you’re doing enough: Relationships take work.  Living together, being permanent roommates, isn’t bad- it’s just not as much fun.  We need to create opportunities to spend time together, talk together and be a couple.  I knew this was important but I don’t think until this weekend, I realized just how essential it really is to being happy.

I already feel the shift.  We are working together, looking forward to spending time together, making plans for alone time.  We are sneaking smiles to each other midst the morning shuffle, flirting with each other.  It’s been two days and already, I feel we are back on track.  So as gradual as the shift to the dark side can be, this rerouting toward the light has taken place nearly instantly.  This man is truly my best friend and everything that I can’t be sometimes.  He knows me.  He knows what I need from him.  I know what he needs from me.  We needed the argument this weekend.

So not only do I feel better about us, I feel better about parenting together too.  Tonight, I was upstairs dealing with the kids, trying to get them to bed, no one was listening, one child was already asleep and if someone woke him up…  Just as I was about to beat some bitches up, hubby came up.  He touched me on my shoulder.  I got this.  You can go down.  In. Love.

We have changed.  We are growing together.  There is no one else I want to work this crazy gig with.

And we are having a Mother’s Day Do-Over next weekend.   Peace Mamas.