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Yesterday

Yesterday was a bad mommy day. I knew it pretty early on. A morning meltdown from Beanie I didn’t quite understand the origins of and a bad response on my part told me to brace myself for the rest of the day. Sensing that it could be one of those days I decided early on to just take it easy. Which basically means: let her watch lots of TV.
Also, I wore fake eyelashes.
I’m not sure if I was bored or if I was trying to feel exotic and exciting in my dreary mommy day. It kinda helped. So after the morning frustration I was holding it together pretty well. Then the last 15 minutes before dad got home I lost it. Beanie was going crazy, I was going crazy and it wasn’t good. I may have thrown a sippy cup of milk at the wall. I called the Mr. to inform him that as soon as he gets home I. am. outta. here. {Now this is just a side note because this story is really about mommy stuff, but earlier in the week C. Jane wrote a post about something similar and why she advocates marriage… well my story, gratefully, was much the same. My wonderfully patient and understanding husband came in and told me to go. He took care of Beanie and bedtime and dinner and even cleaned up the kitchen. He didn’t ask me where I was going or what I was doing, he just let me GO. For all the day-dreamy stuff I wanted in a husband I’m so glad that I have an unselfish one willing to walk in the door from his own long day and take over a crazy toddler at a moments notice…and it’s not like the man doesn’t wrestle enough crazy toddlers in the day as a pediatric dentist. If there are any Beehives out there reading this, you might want to put this on your “what I want in a husband” list it may not be the most obvious answer, but trust me on this one.}
So I left. I went to the mall. I let out a really good throaty scream in the car on the way there. Ah, free therapy. Also, I couldn’t find anyplace to get a massage so it was the next best thing. At the mall I went to Bare Essentials. You know, that mineral make up place. Besides a good massage getting my make up {or hair} done is about the most relaxing thing I know. And I’ve really wanted to try this stuff for a while. Win-win. So I sit down in the chair and the make up girl asks me if I’m wearing any make up. I say something about some powder and concealer from earlier…but that’s it. Then we sorta look at each other with what I like to think was a mutual understanding that, OK. So we both know I’m wearing fake eyelashes because… uh they’re FAKE and OBVIOUS, but I’m not discussing it so lets just put some minerals on my face huh? and we get started. It was relaxing. I felt better and my skin looked radiant. Glowy. {Honestly, I think when my make up runs out, I’m going to get me some Bare Essentials–good stuff}. It was a good place to start because the rest of my mall time was spent with a glowy, dewy face and wicked hot false eye lashes. Long story short {too late} I chilled out. I got the time to myself I so badly needed and a step away from Mommyland {where the whining never ends and there are messes around every corner!}
So I was able to chill and relax, but I still felt guilty. Guilty and confused…. or guilty and helpless? How is it possible to do this mom gig without scarring your children permanently? Is it possible? As much as I try not to yell or not to show my frustration it happens and I just really want to know, is it possible never to lose it? My daughter is a toddler and her main forms of communication are YELLING and TANTRUMS. {Not all the time, but it happens daily.} I was explaining to B one day that it’s very difficult to always maintain your composure when the person you’re dealing with all day tends to YELL and SCREAM a lot. {Oh and please spare me the “well where does she learn it” crap, because while I have yelled before, it’s still pretty rare. This kid came out knowing how to yell/scream/tantrum.} It would be like having a boss who yelled at you all the time–could you really never yell back? It’s really hard to take screaming and yelling without succumbing once in a while.
So I just want to know… any perfect moms out there? Were you raised by an angel mom? Secrets? Drugs? What….
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