Truth (FMF)

I am so glad I waited until today to post my off-the-cuff response to the Five-Minute Friday topic, 'Truth,' from last week. It's really interesting to take a step back and reflect on how you were feeling at any given moment, how you reacted and how you've learned from that experience...

Truth.

Go.

Avicii's song Wake Me Up was playing when I finally got to the car this morning. A perfect sound track and lyrics to a lopsided, imperfect start to the day.

The truth is that I'm still hung over from a mommy rage that occurred when in the very same morning, a canine could not hold it and used the full expanse of our mudroom as a potty, but did not spare the rug, and I stepped in it. Then, a little human had an accident on our bed while enraptured by cartoons; through the feather bed to the mattress. The feather bed that against my husband's better judgement, I stuffed into our washing machine anyway... the last time that chocolate milk was spilled or a night-time pull up did not hold its weight and it caused a little overflow. Oh, the irony.

There was a fellow blogger who set out not to yell for 365 days. I know that it would be like running a marathon but I want to try with all my being. I occasionally raise my voice, but when I really YELL, it has boiled and brewed unknowingly within for who knows how long, for any and many reasons and usually comes spewing out in seemingly the wrong-est situations. Like BAD WRONG. Which is a new slang term I learned yesterday and vowed to use it in a sentence. Truth is, I almost called hubbie and yelled at him for the whole thing. I wanted to share my displaced, ridiculous, decaffeinated fury with my betrothed.

My makeup was smeared after the drive in. I swerved in and out of severe mother's guilt mode where my inner voice admonished me for losing it. Recalling the episode and my 3 year-old wondering why his sweet mama (whom he calls flower princess) was acting like the evil stepmother. Daggers in my heart; leaving him at daycare was the ultimate piercing. Walking to the car, I pleaded with my heart, head and soul and asked why I couldn't be more free-spirited and easy going and calm like so many other moms I know??? WELL, WHY NOT???

I heard the truth loud and clear. Avicci was saying to wake him up when it's over. My tantrum, that is. I spoke back to him, amen. When he's wiser and he's older. I scoffed. I thought I was wiser and older. I thought that after the second child you make more 'informed' decisions. Rational ones. 'All this time I was finding myself and didn't even know I was lost,' he sings. Huh. I didn't even know it. And at this, I cursed my so-called waterproof mascara.

A dear friend spotted me when I arrived and read the look on my face. She soothed me with a similar story (well played - hers was worse) and it lightened me a tad. It's taken me half the day to forgive myself. I forget so quickly that I've counseled other friends in this very conversation. When I was able to play the knowledgeable one. The offerer of sage advice. I had to turn that inward and take a bit of my own today and let myself off the hook.

Here's hoping that he calls me flower when I pick him up and still wants to hold my hand and give  'super-duper' hugs to this hairy-scary, ranting mama who sprouted a Medusa head this morning.

Searching for grace, that is my Truth on this Friday, friends. I am not perfect and I need to quit trying to be. I didn't know I was lost. I'm going to get the Yoga mat out this weekend. And count to ten.

Stop. Exhale.

Bug was as happy to see me when I picked him up as the day before. We had a great weekend with lots of together time and hugs and a 4-1/2 hour birthday party with 15 children!!! I counted to ten (did not get the yoga matt out - oops) and didn't yell... only used inflection in my voice and expression on my face to get my point clearly across and it actually worked. I think my kids were dumbfounded as to why I was talking in a very controlled and neutral voice - at this point, they think mommy is just completely loco anyway!