Monday morning
I’m a chick. You probably guessed that. And despite my best efforts, I act like one sometimes. There are many glorious things about being chickish, for example, boys will carry heavy things for you, but the one thing I’ve never been fond of is the whole emotional thing. The fact that strong emotion, good bad happy sad can bring tears. Damn tears! I’m NOT SAD!!! Why am I teary talking to my boss about what an asshole a co-worker of mine is? Makes no freaking sense. Even to complain about this emotionalness is girly. Wah!!! Emotions! Wah! My inner dude tells me to shut the eff up. (not much of a dude if he can’t even say the f-bomb)
Becoming a mom has opened up the world for a larger range of sometimes-less-than-desirable emotions, namely guilt. Mondays are the worst for this particularly unsavory feeling. I’m able to review my full weekend of mom-ness and the many opportunities for patience where I chose to raise my voice. Or when I whined in the face of Ruby’s whininess. I found the bigger handful ruby has been the more guilt I feel on Monday. What sort of innovative form of torture is this? She’s been obnoxious and I feel bad. Huhn.
But on Mondays I also spend a few minutes reading various and sundry gossip blogs. These are actually more educational than I would have given them credit for. I learned, that, seriously, I could be doing a lot worse job as a mom. Thank you br!tney spe@rs. Apparently there ARE worse moms than me!
But lucky for me, everyday is a little like that movie Groundhog Day, because each morning seems to present a new clean Ruby slate. When I pick her up from school today, a day fraught with guilty hand-wringing, she runs to me mama, mama, mama and I have a hard time setting her down, finishing the hug and letting go. I get another chance to be patient, loving and kind. Sweet!
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Its a wonderful thing about kids, they (we) are so willing to forget. Imagine the world without them? OOOfff.... Zoomaru.
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