Where is the Bowl of Cherries?

Life is supposed to be a bowl of cherries, but maybe they just aren't quite in season yet. Don't get me wrong, I live a super charmed life, and I am 100% thankful all the time, but I do get to feel sorry for myself every once in a while. I will start by saying what I am thankful for, and then I will start!

I love my husband....he is my soulmate, he makes me laugh everyday, and he is the one who will always take care of me no matter what! My son is soooo fabulous in every way. We are so blessed that he is who he is, and that he is healthy. My family is the bomb and has always been the bomb....I love them so much and credit them with my charmed life. I have amazing friends that would do anything for me, and I for them. I don't have to buy generic canned food. I don't have to work. My thighs don't rub together, and I have good fashion cents. So, yeah....blah blah blah.....I freakin have it all!

Well, with all of that wonderfulness, life is still hard. I think I'm in a funk because I'm just now experiencing Aunt Flo and what that bitch's wrath can do to my emotions. I have been without this craziness for about a year and a half, so I don't welcome her back with open arms.....I hate her! I have been so annoyed with EVERYTHING the last few days. I hate the girl at Dunkin Donuts who tries to confuse me with the, "do you want sweetener in that" question when I order my latte. I order the same thing everyday, and I never get asked that question. I told her I wanted it like it normally comes, and she looked at me like a was an imbecile and asked me again like I was stupid and deaf. I hate her! I don't know the answer......I don't know the formula for the over sweet stupid iced caramel latte that I shouldn't be drinking in the first place, so no, I don't know if I want sweetener.....I just want it how it comes!

I also hated my sweet husband who was building us a dock in the back yard so that we could frolic in the lake this summer like the people in a Ralph Lauren add. I hated him because I hurt my back the other day in the TJ Maxx parking lot, and I needed his help! I didn't tell him about the "twinj" until later. I waited a good 5 hours to make sure it wasn't just a nothing, and then I called him and asked him if he could come home early from work, meaning leave the office at 5pm, and help me with the Boy. He came home at 5:30 to me and the Boy laying on the sofa.....the Boy sleeping, me, just happy to lay there. He asked if he could work on the dock, and I said sure since we were just resting. One hour later, we were up and ready for dinner. He was talking to the neighbor. I summoned him in, and found out that he wasn't finished with his "jobs". I asked him if he would have been finished by now if he wasn't talking to the neighbor. He said yes, and I started to hate him! I hated him because I needed his help, and he talked to the neighbor instead of doing what he was supposed to do. But, I didn't want to be a bitchy nagger, so I let him finish. The Boy and I ate dinner alone, and I got madder and madder! He finally came in and said, "well, that didn't really take that long did it?" Of course it took long! It took two fucking hours of prime helping me time. I wanted to scream that at the top of my lungs, but instead I conjured up a, "I don't really know how long those things are supposed to take." I got up to take a hot shower. I would have loved to take a bath, but the house that we live in has no bathtub! I hated our house at this point. I got out of the shower at 8:15 fully prepared to walk downstairs to a PJed boy drinking his bottle, but no! I walked down to a Boy that was still in his clothes and getting more and more crazed by the minute! Once they get "overtired" you are totally fucked! I hated everything about that situation, but I mostly hated how the relaxing shower was now a distant memory.

The bottom line is....I was having a shitty day, and I should be allowed to have a shitty day every once in a while. I never do, so I should be allowed to have that occasional day when I hate everything! I hate the dishwasher because it sucks, and the whole purpose of having a dishwasher take up valuable cabinet space is for the damn thing to actually clean the dishes instead of depositing iron on all of them. I hate the washing machine because it smells like mold, and I know that it isn't my mold because it smelled like mold when we moved in. I hate the fact that I don't work. I hate that I don't contribute to our household financially. I hate how it makes me feel when I spend money on ridiculously priced pieces of wearable art. I hate that I don't really get the choice to work anymore. I say this because now that I have the Boy, I have to stay with him. I have to because I want to raise him...he is my responsibility, and I need to make sure that he turns out to be a good addition to this planet.

Thus, being a mom is hard! It's hard because your life is no longer your own. Yes, I'm lucky that I get to stay home, but if you are thinking that, then you can go to hell! Maybe I think that you're lucky because you get to work. The grass is always greener. Don't get me wrong, I love the Boy, but he is always with me....he is like my own personal little leach. I can't just go and do something....I have to take him with, and I have to make sure that he will be comfortable coming with. I have to work his schedule into my own without losing myself. I have to keep a hold on what I want for my life without compromising his. I
love my little snotty whiny leach, but some days I feel like he has just sucked all of the life out of me. These are those few days when my husband is really late coming home and I am feeding the boy his smashed fruit in silence. These are the days that we have run out of things to talk about.....me and the Boy. Then I get a small break from the Leach, and I miss him. It's a crazy thing being a mom. It's a tug of war of wants. I want time to myself, but I want to spend time with the Boy. I want him to stop crying a take a nap in his crib by himself when he is tired, but I want to rock him and feel his sweet little breath on my neck as he drifts off to sleep. I want to teach him No, boundaries, and discipline, but I don't want to be the disciplinarian.

It's so hard when you stay at home because you are with them all the time. This makes you the expert on them, but it also makes you the only one that can do certain things with them, and more times than not.....you are totally over them by that point in the day. I don't care what it sounds like, but I need a break! I love that he gets excited to see his daddy when he comes home, but part of me hates it when he pushes me away to see the next best thing. It's almost like having all the rewards of motherhood stripped out of your hands when he wants someone more. I hate that, and believe me, I take it better than most people, but I can't say that I am completely immune to it!

I know that this is the longest blog on earth, but here is some advice if you are thinking of having children. When you start to feel like you are attached at the hip, and you would give anything to go to the grocery store by yourself to get a gallon of milk....it's okay. Everyone feels like that. If you feel like you've been shit on since you had to give up your career, it's okay, you're not the only one. If you worry about your husband and how he can bond with the baby, STOP! He will bond, the damn baby will love him! He is the fun one! He is the one that throws the baby in the air, that never wipes the baby's nose, that doesn't make him eat the smashed meat. He is the one that feeds him people food and carries him on his shoulders through the airport. He is the one that lets him fall asleep on his chest when he doesn't want to get into this crib at bedtime. Dad's get to do all the fun stuff. We are the ones that dress them, feed them, bathe them, rock them, nurse them, have them, grow them, wear their snot, haul them around, find fun things to do with them, read to them, sing to them, socialize them, push them, carry them, medicate them, etc.

I know I sound bitter, but I'm not. I know that my husband works hard all day long at a job that only a small percentage of people on this earth can do. Because he is making a living for us, he doesn't have a whole lot of time to spend with the boy, so I want that time to be good time. He is his son too, so he should have a say in things for sure. He does his share of the poopy diapers, and he has given him a bath or two, but it is mostly fun with daddy, and that is because of the short time they have together. I know this, and I am trying to figure out a way to make it wonderful for all involved. It's not easy, but most days are great! We eat dinner as a family at the table......we feed the boy turkey meatballs and homemade pasta bolognese. We have a fun little play time after dinner together, and then we cuddle on the sofa after the boy goes to bed.

Life is good, but it isn't easy. I know that it's not supposed to be, but some days are just better than others.