The Mommy Murders (part1)

Warning: While some may understand and find humor in my evil thoughts, others may think I need to be locked in a white, padded cell. Don’t read if you’re easily offended or highly judgmental. If you have a weak sense of humor, go ahead and clutch your pearls now and read no further.

The first time I had serious fantasies about killing my husband was shortly after the birth of our daughter. We had just brought her home and I was still trying to figure out how breastfeeding and engorgement coincided with her schedule. I’d either have to wake up in the middle of the night to pump or wake up a sleeping baby and force her to nurse.

Eventually, she got used to the middle of the night feedings and would wake up in her own… crying. I swear a mother’s hearing is intensified as soon as she gives birth, because every little coo or breath wakes you from that light sleep (the only kind of sleep you get once you become a mother). However, my husband could still sleep through it all. He didn’t share my worries and have to check that she was still breathing every five minutes or have to get up to feed her or burp her or just stare at her in all of her wonder. No. He slept. Through it all.

For this reason, I seriously considered killing him.

If by chance she cried loud enough to disrupt his perfectly deep slumber, then he had the audacity to “shhh” us. I thought it was common knowledge you never “shhh” a sleep-deprived, breast-engorged, hormone-imbalanced momma bear who is giving every ounce of herself to this new life form. I guess he missed the memo.

And for this reason, I would fantasize about the many different ways I could kill him.

I’d usually apologize the next morning for my evil thoughts, and he would just laugh at me. (Which probably didn’t help matters at the time). Naturally when I had our second baby, I thought it would be best for his well being if we didn’t sleep in the same room. Rather than murder my husband, I volunteered to take the couch so I could obsess over the well-being of our newborn son without interrupting my husband or my daughter (yes, we co-sleep. Go ahead and judge me harder, since I’m sure murder has never crossed your perfect mind either).

However, new reasons quickly evolved that my mind considers thoughts-of-murder-worthy. 

To be continued…

Gymnastics Taught Mommy a Lesson

Gymnastics Taught Mommy a Lesson

My husband and I thought this summer would be a great time to start our daughter in gymnastics. Because she is not yet two, the only class I could find was a “mommy-and-me” class. I’ve never been very flexible myself, but I thought taking her and holding her hand through it all would be a breeze.

Boy, was I wrong. Here’s our story.

We arrive a few minutes early to check in and check it out. I let Mason run around to exert some of her built up energy from the car ride in hopes to acclimate her to the gym and routine.

The other parents and children start to arrive, and I am surprised to see that Mason is the tallest kid there since this is a three and under class…

All the kids line up and go get their bean bags and shapes from the instructor… So we get in line and follow suit. Tantrum one takes place.

I see a few looks of sympathy from some of the other moms, surely they’ve been in this situation before too, right? Maybe first class wasn’t the best either?

The other kids immediately go put their shapes in a circle and sit. So we attempt this. Tantrum two greets me.

I look around and a couple of parents give me an understanding grin, so I try to laugh it off. But, man, I’m sweating. This gymnastics class is work.

Stretching begins. Nose-to-toes and sing the ABCs… ABCs? My daughter can barely talk in an understandable form yet… We can’t sing the ABCs. I attempt to get her to do this anyways. Insert tantrum number three.

Accompanying tantrum three is the strength of a lion which takes off across the gym and jumps on a mat and lies there like it’s time to relax… I guess all of that stretching wore a girl out already? (What stretching? It was definitely the fits that wore her out.)  Attempting to remove my wild animal from the mat and rejoin the group results in, you guessed it, tantrum number four.

By this time, all parents avoid looking in my direction. I can see the ones beside me inching a little further away, hoping that their child doesn’t catch this maniacal behavior that my child is displaying. And I’m not even sure what stretch the group is on anymore.

At this point, just ten minutes into the class, I take my wild animal (still in the process of tantrum four) and we officially quit the mommy-and-me gymnastics class.

Never have I felt like more of a failure as a mom as I did seeing those tiny girls get in line, wait their turn, sit on their designated shape, and sing the ABCs. I thought what am I doing wrong? Why can’t Mason do this? Then a dear friend told me “that’s just her.” No kids are the same, and not all kids fit in the same box. She has her own personality, she is strong willed, and she is determined.

Moral of the story? She’s her own person and she’s awesome!

So for all of those judgy parents who think otherwise, stop being so judgy and let go of your pearls already. Yes, my daughter looked like the oldest kid there, but, in reality, she was one of the youngest.

She’s just not there yet, so why should I force her to try to be something she’s not and try to do something she’s obviously not ready for? The answer is, I shouldn’t.

Looking back, I laugh [a lot] at this experience. Yeah, in the moment, I was frustrated. But, in the end, I’m proud of her personality and her strong-willed spirit. These are the traits that take people far in life. So, I’m just going to sit back and let my wild animal decide what adventure we take next.

You’re Missing Out

You’re Missing Out

As a mom, not many things can bother you enough to get you down. Once you have a child, protecting that child becomes your greatest responsibility. Needless to say, the one thing that does bother this mama is when someone disrespects, belittles, or begrudges my child.

As her mom, I vow to not let that happen. This goes for everyone. If you are a cancer or a poison to my child’s life, then how can I allow you to be in it? But you’ve made that choice on your own…

It absolutely blows my mind how you can pretend she does not exist and look through her as if she isn’t real. It also blows my mind to teach your own children to act this same way… What the heck? What happened to good old fashioned manners and grace?

I often feel sorry that we don’t talk… I often ask my husband if I should say something polite just to let you know we are still alive and that I still care… But seeing you this last time and the actions you take in attempt to avoid, bother, and hurt us… These actions let me know that my husband is right. We don’t need you in our lives.

So shame on you for pretending to care so much for others, when it is just your attempt to hurt those you resent the most. And shame on me for letting it get to me. But I will not let it shame my daughter. My confident, beautiful, sweet, sincere, loving, perfect, innocent soul. Shame on you for trying to ruin that. Shame on you for not wanting to know her.

You’re missing out. That’s all I can say.

Like all moms, I think my daughter is the cream of the crop, the sweetest, funniest, most loving, and amazing being on the planet.

And you choose not to be a part of her life. You choose not to know her.

Ignore me all you want. Choose not to accept me as a member of the family. That’s fine. I don’t need your acceptance. But why take out your anger, resentment, bitterness, dare I say, jealousy on a child. A little girl who is so full of life and love. A girl who only sees the good in everyone. A little girl so full of innocence that she does not know what meanness is. My little girl who loves everyone…

You are being an example of how cruel and cold the world can be. To this little girl who deserves to be sheltered and safeguarded from all things hateful and mean. I will not let you push the things you are self-conscious about onto her.

Blame me, that’s fine. But I will not allow you to take it out on my daughter.

In the meantime, I will continue soak up every ounce of love my daughter will shed and adore her amazing little life and beautiful soul. Sometimes, I just can’t help to wonder why you choose to miss out.

Because, you are truly missing out.

Readers, this mama’s heart needs prayer. Forgiveness is hard, and I don’t know if I can do it right now. Each time I think I’m ready, something backfires. So pray for me, guys.

And though I am struggling with forgiving you in this moment and sometimes it’s hard for this mama bear to take the high road, I will still continue to pray that you only experience what God has in store for you instead of “what you have coming to you.”

I pray to be strong. Strong enough for my daughter and my family. I pray that she remains confident and full of life and wonder. I pray that she keeps her innocence and stays sweet, and I pray that no one ever makes her feel less than. Lord, help me to protect her from the world’s evil. To teach her to be strong, courteous, and courageous. Help me to be a better example of Your life and Your love. I pray that I can nurture my daughter’s forgiving soul and be the role model she needs. Lord, help me make the right choices in these difficult situations and be the best I can be for her.

Visit from H.E.double-hockey-sticks

It’s funny how when people you know get pregnant, they, all of a sudden, decide they want to come visit you… Even though you haven’t talked in YEARS… But since you already have a kid and all… they want to get a taste of what it’s like… and decide what crazy things you do, that they will never do…

My advice to you: don’t let this happen! If you haven’t hung out or talked in two or more years, why start now? If you have nothing in common other than the fact you have a child and they have a fetus, don’t invite them over. Here’s my experience with this.

Top 6 judgmental comments made from these visitors (there were plenty more, trust me):

  • “If she slept in the crib you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

First of all, the boys were out golfing, and the girls were left home.  At naptime (which was twice a day at this point), my daughter sleeps in my bed with either me or a baby monitor watching her. So it was morning naptime, and she was sleeping. Since we had company, I did not lay with her and came out to keep the needy, pregnant wife from being too bored and lonely. Even with the monitor, I am paranoid (it’s just my nature). Anyways, I asked her if she heard anything and went to check on my daughter like I do a million times if I’m not lying down with her. That is when this comment was made.

Although this comment is true, who are you to judge my parenting techniques? I am doing you a favor by changing my routine to accommodate your needy needs, because, honestly, I would much rather be laying and watching my sweet girl sleep than out here attempting artificial conversation with you. I don’t care about the latest sorority gossip. In fact, I don’t care about college life at all anymore. I am a mom with more important things to worry about! So how dare you judge me…

  • “My baby is going to be a go-with-the-flow baby and have to work around my schedule… Life has to go on…”

This comment was made when the visitor was wanting to go do something fun, like go to a casino or the mall or to go look at baby stuff (since it seems the new rave is to get pregnant to buy all the fun/cute stuff rather than actually raise a child?!).

Sorry, I am not going to get a babysitter for my daughter so we can go to some smoke-filled casino and stay up late… That’s not our routine, and I actually enjoy every second I get to spend with my daughter… which there are too few of already. And as far as you having no schedule for your baby, good luck to you. My daughter is actually a good (almost textbook) baby, and I am fortunate to be so lucky with her good behavior and sweet demeanor. Her strict schedule helps with this. If you think she is so unruly, just imagine her not on a schedule… Also, I had a baby to be a parent, not to drop her off every weekend at a babysitter when I am already away from her too much during the work week…

  • “Don’t be one of those weird moms who breastfeeds until your baby is two.” **Insert disgusting looks as I nurse my 10 month old baby girl.

Actually, that was my plan (we made it 18+ months by the grace of God). Actually, I was breastfed until 2+. Actually, I’m a huge advocate of nursing if you can do it. Sorry if you find it gross or unnatural. Don’t look. Actually, just get out of my house.

  • “How much does she weigh??” **Insert looks of disgust as I offer my child a sippy of milk and another snack.

Yes, my daughter is extremely healthy and has always been in the upper 90s percentile in height and weight for her age. (Woohoo, supermilk mama! Insert bows and curtsies, thank you, thank you very much, oh hold the applause, actually no, keep it coming). I love each of her 7 arm rolls and her little, pooched-out belly. Even if my baby is a healthy chunk, she still has to have multiple snacks between meal times a day. I cannot stress it enough: BABIES NEED A SCHEDULE, both for naps and snacks. It’s not that I am overfeeding my baby; it’s that both her father and I were abnormally large babies ourselves… but we turned out normal sized (enough).

Then, the following comments were made as we are at the restaurant and my daughter was playing peek-a-boo with the menu:

  • “Mason! Nooo! We use inside voices here!”

Then use your inside voice wanch and stop yelling at my kid.

Repeat comment 5 about 100 times. And then,

  • “No, you dropped it, so you’re not getting it again.”

Oh, yes, she is… if the menu is keeping her entertained, give her the damn menu! (Sorry for the language, I normally don’t cuss, but this was absolutely necessary).

You know that scene from Mean Girls where Cady envisions herself leaping across the table to attack Regina like a wild animal… yeah, that scene was definitely going through my mind at this point.

In fact, if this ever happens to me again, I am moving tables…. Across the restaurant… and leaving my husband to entertain the couple from college who we have nothing in common with but they are pregnant and wanting to see what life is like with a kid but judging every move you make as a parent because they are expert parents even though they have no kids…. Yeah… So if this couple is wanting to come visit you, just make up an excuse. After all, you really are too busy to entertain.

On a positive note, we haven’t heard from this couple since. It could be that last fit I threw at the restaurant before they left that embarrassed my husband tremendously (yes I said I, not my daughter… But seriously, could you hold your tongue this long? I was stressed to the max, sweating bullets, literally going insane).

And no one disciplines my child for being a silly goose, especially some over controlling, judgmental stranger (no one puts baby in a corner! Grrr! Perhaps I take mama bear a little too seriously?). Hey, this mama bear can only take so much.

And, yes, I had to pray for forgiveness many times for my evil thoughts after this visit. Obviously, I’m still not over it and still a little bitter about the whole situation. So keep the prayers coming, ya’ll!  But, seriously, for the love! Do not feel obligated to let these people come visit… You’ve got much, much better things to do.