Bad Mumma Award

13 Apr

So I just got my bad Mom award for the day!  Not only did I send one of them away in tears, when the other one tried to help I sent her away, head hanging, dejected.  It’s not so much the times when I know I’m not being the best Mom I can be that I get the awards, it’s when I had no intention of disappointing or hurting either of them that the golden trophy gleams on the fridge!  My youngest has been sick for two days, thankfully sick to my kids means at worst a few episodes of throwing up and a scary fever throughout the night.  However whatever the level of sick, I still hardly sleep a wink when my child has a fever, having watched the opening sequence to “City of Angels” one to many times ( ironically before I ever had kids, but…it stuck ).  For those of you who don’t know what I’m referring to I’ll save you the heartbreak of a lengthy explanation and sum it up quickly, daughter, fever, helpless Mother, bad ending for Mother…  So… I haven’t really slept in two nights, and it’s not quite as easy to wave off pregnant as it is non-pregnant ( not that any of us parents have really slept soundly since they were born…I’m told sleep returns when they move out of the house).   It’s been raining all day and my oldest is tired of being stuck in the house, she’s been stuck in the house all winter, and now she’s had about two whole days of fun in the backyard and well let me tell you, she is a very sad sack right now with the rain.  Our next door monster broke through the door earlier and well there’s a whole post about my favorite 5 year old’s belligerence.  Let’s just say the phrase “If you can’t follow the rules of our house you can go back to yours” was repeated ad nauseam.  All followed up by the discovery that the little monster hadn’t even asked said Mother if she could visit, she just left while her mother was cleaning out one of the little monster’s many pet cages.  What makes this more disturbing though is the fact that the mother didn’t come to get the daughter for an hour or so!  She “figured” she was over here!  I mean, we live in a place where we don’t lock our doors, but…I can’t even fathom this kind of, I don’t even know what to call it…”parenting style”?  After all the excitement, my youngest finally fell asleep ( not a daily treat ) and I figured I’d better maximize the respite.  I say respite because much as I love my daughter and want her to be always healthy and happy, her standard operating procedure when she’s feeling ill is to basically try to crawl back inside me…all day!  I explained to her gently that not only is she far too big to get back inside, but it’s currently being used by her little brother or sister.  She in true 2 yr old fashion, doesn’t get it, or care!  So knowing I had limited time on my hands I rushed into the shower ( having not engaged in that particular practice in longer than I’m willing to admit ) and scurried around the upstairs sprucing up the bedrooms.  I did commit the ultimate clean up sin too, I swiped and shoved in my daughter’s room.  The swipe and shove, for those of you who aren’t familiar with this method of cleaning is to scoop up the toys ( all those little plastic one’s that get everywhere ) and just shove them in the nearest receptacle.  This is a method I learned from my husband, and I usually have very colorful things to say to/about my husband upon discovering he’s employed this method, since I’m the one that ends up putting everything back in it’s ‘”place”.  This method is very easy to use when “storage” consists of plastic bins.   Having “red up” as they call it in this area of the country, I figured I ‘d run downstairs, quickly do the dishes.  Alas,  I miscalculated when I decided to go ahead and shave my legs in the shower ( a feat I am normally unable to do caused by a combination of my youngest daughter’s affinity for showering with me and the broken faucet in the shower which doesn’t divert all the water to the shower head thereby shortening our shower time/ hot water amounts significantly )as this used the extra ten minutes I would later need.  I was halfway through the dishes when I heard the whining patter of little feet,  youngest daughter was awake, and well youngest daughter doesn’t wake up smiling and giggling, sick or not.   So there I was, halfway through the dishes and my littlest is crying “Mommy pick up” and I’m trying to do that drag out the sentence trick while I finish up the dishes, but she’s just not having it, so I commit the ultimate sin!  “Just let Mommy finish the dishes and I’ll come get you, it’ll just take me a second”.  Well of course that did not work, sending my youngest into tears, well my oldest can’t have that, so she excitedly decided she could fix everything by “helping” me do the dishes.  Well let me just explain if I even need to…she’s four.  Helping do the dishes is sort of a misnomer.  So I sent her away too, and then got hit in the head with the bad mom award.  If all the Mother’s of the world could bottle up the good intentions that somehow end in feeling guilty we could power the entire world for years to come.  They could call this energy source  “the guilt”.  We could solve the energy crisis!


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