Oh, Happy to be a Woman? Day

Sounds bi-polar, but I’m not. However, when I’m up, I am way up. I’m gracious and giving. I’m funny with a smidge of charming. Generous. Energetic. Supportive. Conscientious.

It’s like Newton’s Law of Gravity – what goes up with vigorous love, focused attention and positive energy must come smashing back down to earth with exhausted, cranky, resentful force.

Anyone?
Any MOM?
ANYWHERE?

Does anybody get it?

Every once in a while, I just need a little melt down.

I spent hours completing motherly duties on a +10 sunny Sunday. I scheduled a playdate with friends (meaning two extra kids under 10 in the house ) made homemade potato corn chowder and did ten loads of laundry (including two loads of my teenager’s clothes which I typically refuse to do – they do it) plus I unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, finished the supper dishes and started a pot of decaf for the working man in the basement… put away groceries and got the girls into the tub. I made bedtime snacks and ensured they brushed their teeth. I was tired and looking forward to a hot bath and a good book… but first had to drive across town to pick up one from work at 10pm and… was asked to give a coworker a ride home, too.  

At 10:20, I pulled in the drive, unlocked the door, excited for to hit the tub. I hung up my coat and raced upstairs only to discovered someone else running a liesurely, hot bath with the door locked. No hot soak for me.

I try to take great care and sort colours to wash and fold clothes. Last night, I hung my favourite shirt over the shower rack in the bathroom to dry overnight. This morning, after I drove kids to school, I came home to discover it crumpled in a damp ball on the counter in the bathroom.

I sure the hell did not put it there.

Our youngest woke her dad up at 5:30am complaining of a sore stomach. He sat with her while she went to the bathroom and made she sure washed her hands. Then he moved her to the couch, and tucked her in to watch a movie with a glass of juice before leaving for the his morning workout at the swimming pool at 6am. He had his work clothes with him in his cool ittle gymbag. And he probably stopped at Tim’s for a large French Vanilla (the bugger).

It’s my “job” to pack lunches and ensure kids have the right stuff in their backpacks.  As an added bonus to my day, I got to clean up puke and rinse the bowl and then try to figure out how exactly to make my day work.

You see, I’ve invited seven ladies to today’s International Women’s Day luncheon in Red Deer. And I have an afternoon appointment that I’d like to make… but it looks like I might not.

Due to circumstances beyond my control, my plans have been altered.

To top it off, I got a text yesterday from my teens who asked that I pick up deodorant and shampoo for their downstairs bathroom. You mean to tell me, you can buy fast food lunches, air cards for your cell phones, ciggarettes and new clothes but you can’t buy your own deodorant???

Well then, STINK for all I care!

I’d hate for anyone to think that I am stomping my feet in a pouty, poor me kind of way, but frankly I don’t care.

I feel like pouting.

How fitting that I would spend International Women’s day stuck at home, feeling unappreciated and taken for granted, cleaning up barf.

It is a woman’s nature to give until depleted. We’ve acquired lessons through culture and legacy about how to be a ‘good mother,’ nurturing our family at any cost, sacrificing our selves and our happiness to ‘give them roots and wings,’ expecting little, or nothing, in return.

I cannot state fulfillment in motherhood.

*GASP!

I love my children. I love the way they glow. I love their humour. I take great pleasure in seeing them thrive, make friends and learn life lessons. I want to see them become great human beings and capable functional adults. I want to help them build self-respect, compassion, awareness and to develop moral responsibility for not only their lives, but for the world around them.

But I don’ t get deep pleasure from my homemaker duties. And I don’t want them to think I exist only to make their life easier.

Laundry, bleck. Dishes, pattooie. Lunches, GACK! Sick days, %&$*#%…  (poor little thing, I know she can’t help it. So far she’s had scrambled eggs with ketchup and a drink box and is watching Barbie & the 3 Muskateers.)

Then I find my favourite new shirt crumpled up on the counter,
am expected to be a taxi driver after spending my ‘day off’ folding laundry, 
don’t have a chance to climb into the one bathtub in the house when I really want a bubblebath

AND you want me to buy your pit rub??? Well, my personal dissatisfaction rating is beginning to climb.

And believe me, I totally understand, that my life is easy.

But I still have a right to whine now and then.

I might be a mom. And a grown up. And my life might be really good.
But I’m still just a person. I still have off days.
And ups and downs.

I just needed to say it outloud and be heard.

I feel better already.

Okay, I lied. I don’t feel any better, yet.
But I will eventually, I’m sure.