Some days, I don’t want to get out of bed because I don’t want to go to work, and by “go to work” I mean “be a mom.” (This is probably not an okay thing to say, but it’s true.) Of course, my sense of
guilt duty is typically enough to get me up and on my feet. (Unless Brian has kindly let me sleep in, then it’s guilt.) After crawling around on the floor feeling for my glasses, which I undoubtedly knocked off the nightstand in the process of looking for them, I go upstairs to get my almost 3-year-old’s pee-pee sheets off her bed. (Cue the Chihuahua barking and thwacking her dish against the floor. As if I didn’t hear her the first six times.) Then I’ll make coffee, clean up someone’s poop, feed the Chihuahua, scold the Dachshund for trying to eat the Chihuahua’s poop, start the pee-pee laundry, feed the almost 3-year-old, pray the baby will stay asleep until the coffee’s done, and if I’m lucky, go to the bathroom. This is a typical morning here in the Land of Cray Cray. And no, we don’t take weekends off.
I read this article a while back. (Come to think of it, I’ve probably already mentioned it, but I’m gonna mention it again.) Summary: Parenting is not fun. Sure, there are fun times and moments of incredible joy and contentment, but on the whole, it’s just plain hard. And I feel like people don’t want to admit this because it’s more comfortable to hide our guilt and anger, right? Why do we feel bad if we don’t want to share a cookie or get punched in the face during a tantrum? Frankly, sometimes I actually want to eat my food, and I really don’t like getting punched in the face. It sucks.
This mom is telling it like it is. I think it’s great. So does everyone else. She has an entire online community of people who engage on her site. She’s got like a gazillion Twitter followers, an 8-week waiting list to be a guest blogger, and over 280,000 people who have used her online “confessional,” an anonymous way to share your secret parenting thoughts and fears. But why do we (and she) call her a “scary mommy?” She’s scary because she tells the truth? Maybe I should write her and ask.
And why do parents only feel safe saying how they really feel if no one knows who they are? I mean, I get it. I’ve been afraid to say this for a long time because I felt like it meant I didn’t love my children enough, or that people would think I didn’t love my children enough. But of course I love them. Isn’t that the point of all this?
Okay. Leo has vomited all over me, not only soaking the couch but the crotch of my pants as well. Sexy.
Oh, whatever. It’ll dry.
Maybe we should stop judging each other. I’m guilty of it for sure. But being a judger doesn’t help anyone. In fact, all this judginess (just made that up) is the whole problem. It’s impossible to do anything right because someone will think you’re wrong. What ever happened to everybody love everybody? Let’s bring it back. For reals.
And just like that it all turns on a dime with a shining moment! Scarlett and I made 4 dozen oatmeal date cookies earlier today. I had them cooling on the counter when I left the kitchen to nurse Leo. When I came back, I found that she had put all the cookies (at least I think it was all the cookies) away into two Tupperware containers that she got out herself. Here’s the proof.
Oh, and if you’d like the recipe for the oatmeal date cookies, have at it. I got it off the back of the date box. (Brian used to substitute butterscotch chips for dates, back when we had 20-something metabolisms and weren’t serving them to our children.)
2 sticks butter, softened
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
3 cups quick oats
(2) 8-oz. packs chopped dates
Cream butter and both sugars together. Then add eggs and vanilla and combine well. Next add flour, baking soda, and cinnamon and combine into ingredients. Finally, add quick oats and dates and mix together. Use a teaspoonful to drop mix onto parchment paper-lined (or ungreased) cookie sheet. Bake for 11 to 12 minutes at 350° (or 10 minutes for slightly under-baked cookies). Makes 4 dozen.
Enjoy! Peace and love.