Misery loves company

I've been reading the mommy blogs and chick literature. At first, they were really satisfying distractions. I loved reading about the lives and loves of other people and finding solace in the fact that most moms are feeling the same anxieties about parenting that I was.

Well, it's not enough. It just doesn't do the trick anymore. It doesn't matter that my friends and total strangers are having the same issues with their young toddlers. It just downright sucks that I don't have the patience the deal with the daily grind or lack the wherewithal to consider myself blessed. I feel cursed that my children love me so much that they have this constant need to engage me. "Mommy play with me. Mommy I need more milk, mommy help me get dressed, mommy I want a snack, mommy I want to watch a movie, mommy I want to go to the park." Or better yet, "where are you going mommy? I want to come with you!! And, seriously, it doesn't matter that it's normal and that every mom is experiencing the same things in varying degrees.

You'd think I'd be grateful that first of all, I have 3 healthy, beautiful kids, and that second, they love and need me. What's wrong with me? I'm exhausted from the constand demand on my time. How lame is that? Like, I've got so many better things I could be doing. You know, sorting the laundry or cleaning up the garage. Geez....

It's Christmas time.....now be happy, d**mit!

I had had enough! The kids were behaving spoiled, ungrateful children, my mother-in-law was pouting like a 4 year old and I was exhausted from all the preparations! I am so going to cancel next Christmas.

Then Christmas morning arrives....My dear hubby is still at work at the firehouse, so I have to somehow keep the kids from opening the presents that Santa brought until he gets home.

The boys come in my room first. They don't seem to realize that Santa has come. I hear my daughter's footsteps lead to the living room. There is a pause. I hear her running down the hallway. She bursts in the room telling her sweet story of discovery. I wish I had a camera.

What brings me to tears is my oldest son's reaction to the stocking stash. We had decided that the kids could empty their stockings in the hopes that it will keep them busy until their dad comes home. So, I'm busy in the living room with something and I sent the older kids to get their stockings. My daughter starts calling out her loot and squealing with her excitement at each discovery. My oldest son is strangely silent. I glance into the dining room and see him studying something he's taken from his lot. Turning it this way and that....then he comes running to me with a big smile of excitement and exclaims, "look, Santa gave me underwear!" (He had grabbed my husband's by mistake. And, yes, that's what I put in their dad's stocking)

My daughter gave the appropriate oohing noises with a slightly confused look on her face.

In that moment, I felt the Christmas joy. My son is not some greedy, ungrateful, spoiled child. My daughter is not so self-absorbed or mean spirited. I love my children.

Still can't stand the mother-in-law, but that's really ok.

I'm seeing red....

All these sayings, like, "I can feel my blood boiling", or "blowing my stack", are running through my head right now. The one, "having kids keeps you young"....really??

I feel like I've lost years of my life these last couple of days. My oldest son is severely doing a jig on my last available nerve. He's taken to kicking or hitting when he is being "guided" to do the right things or to stay safe. I am ready to drop kick him myself, but seeing as how I've learned to control my impulses, it hasn't happened...yet.

I am not equipped to deal with my 4- 1/2 year old throwing tantrums. I know I should be looking at the underlying cause, but I'm so consumed with not throwing a tantrum myself, that I haven't got an ounce of energy left. My other 2 kids stand by and kind of look lost as they wait for the storm to blow over.

I hate this "phase" and hope it will pass before it really damages our relationship. I love my son, but I can't stand this behavior.

One scoop of vanilla please.....

I've been reading some of my friends blogs and I've realized how plain Jane my blog is looking. It's very passive on my part. It's my way of being non-commital. Seriously, I'm just creatively challenged.

I haven't been posting lately, and I don't know if anyone really notices. I haven't put my blog out there and I, certainly, haven't told that many people that I have one. It feels really strange. I know I'm just over analyzing the whole thing, which is typical of me. It keeps me from actually having to deal with any real issues.

These days my real issue is my parenting skills, or lack thereof. It's sad really. I have three fabulous kids, but I'm not being the parent they deserve. I don't have any patience. I lack the knowledge on how to deal with their delicate psyches. I want my children to be successful human beings, but some days....ok, too many days, I am as selfish as I feared I would be. I know it's normal to feel this way. Parenting can get overwhelming. It's a thankless job, blah, blah, blah...They deserve better, but they are stuck with me...

So, that's why I've spared the airwaves. I can't think about much else right now. As hard as I try to be more interesting all I can think to write about are my kids.

I have been dreaming of bikini bootcamp. Since the knee surgery, I've put on quite a few lbs. I'd love to go to some far off beach where all I have to do is take care of myself. I'd miss the alcohol, but it would be worth it. I just can't imagine leaving my babies for a week. A girl can dream......