So grab a cup of coffee and a donut, ahem, I mean a low-fat muffin, or depending on the time of the day maybe some wine and chocolate, and sit back and enjoy Alex’s Monster Mommy Moment!
Parenting Would Be Easier If You Like Me Better Than Your Dad
Scott, my husband, didn’t realize that he’d have to work that weekend. I’m mentally unprepared to solo-parent an extra day. Although looking back, it seems like a lame excuse.
As Saturday morning arrives, I rally when Scott drives off to his pediatric practice. We climb into the car and head to the bagel shop with the promise of a toy story. As we’re driving, I realize that we forgot to get my son’s physical for his dental surgery on Monday. CRAP. I call Scott to tell him that we’ll be stopping by the practice. The kids are cheering in the background. Scott says no.
Scott: I have a ton of patients and every other one is flu positive. You can’t stop by. We can do the physical later.
But I’m not fine. I’m annoyed. Because now I have to explain to the children that we won’t be seeing Dada. And my children are in the DADA IS BETTER THAN CAKE phase. Plus, I was looking forward to a quick morale hug. Maybe even someone else to carry around my woke-up-needy daughter.
I turn to the kids and say: We aren’t going to Dada’s office anymore. But we still get to go to bagels and the toy store!
My kids: NOOOOO.
My son: But I have BOOGIES.
I sigh. My son would rather pretend to be sick than be with me at the toy store. I shift from annoyed to irritated. And then I open my mouth.
Me: Well, Dada said he doesn’t want us to come. I don’t understand why either.
I watch this sink in for my kids. At first, I think: Why should I tell them any different. It’s the truth! Mostly.
But I know that it’s not right. My husband and I are a team, and my children need that from us.
I don’t fix it though. I’m tired of playing second fiddle.
We go to the bagel store and toy store and have a great time. My husband shows up at the toy store and it’s like Elmo came to visit.
WOW!! WOW!! DADADADAADAD!!! WE MISSED YOU! HUGS!! MEMEME HUGS!
I injure my eye from the constant rolling.
I ask to take the other car home so I can have ten minutes to myself. Scott says he can’t. He has to stop by a patient’s house on the way back home.
I’m livid. He knows I’m having a bad day. The kids are livid. Because Dada walks on water and that’s a neat trick. And now, I’m livid at the kids.
The children and I get into the car, and they won’t stop whining about how much they want their Dada. And I know these are phases. Kids switch parents and favorites all the time. But in that moment, I don’t care. I’m tired of understanding. I’m tired of being second-best. I’m tired of being forgiving of Scott’s work. I’m just tired.
Me: I TOOK YOU TO A TOY STORE AND YOU’D RATHER BE WITH DADA WHO ISN’T EVEN WILLING TO BE WITH US! HE DOESN’T WANT TO BE WITH US.
My kids start crying.
My son: I don’t want to be your friend.
Me: I DON’T WANT TO BE YOURS EITHER.
I think: No wonder they don’t want to be with me. I’m a terrible mother.
I don’t even want to tell my husband what I said in the car. Because I don’t want him to know that I attempted to twist his relationship with our children. I feel sick.
I don’t want to be that mom. That bad guy. That monster.
My only solace is that I remember a friend commenting on a post with the line: You can’t judge your parenting based on one moment.
By mid-afternoon, I ‘fess up and apologize to my husband and to my children.
I hope to be a better mom and wife and Alex tomorrow.
Or to at least to keep my mouth shut. Anyone have duct tape?
And now you see why I love me some Alex. This line “You can’t judge your parenting based on one moment” – should be tattooed on my forehead. It’s a good thing to remember.
Thank you my friend, for reminding us that we are all sharing the same experiences and that we’re all in this together and that we can learn from each other’s
Now go swing by late enough and say hello to Alex, and if you’re new there make sure to tell her that I sent you. I know you’ll really enjoy her blog!
And so it goes…