I've been a really crappy mom lately. Really, really, really crappy. I've felt sorry for myself, I've taken my stress, anger, frustration, tears and sadness out on my kids. One to be exact.
Owen.
It's always Owen. I don't quite understand why he gets the brunt of my sorrow or self-loathing or pity parties, where I'm the only one invited. I don't know if it's because I've always expected more out of him, if it's because he is the oldest, or because he is a he.
I really should stop. No really. I'm tired of the guilt that I feel afterwards for doing this. I've been such a crappy mom this week that when things came to a head, it was like Mt. St. Helens had exploded in our house.
Not a pretty sight.
Tonight, while doing one of the most frustrating things for me, Owen turned to me and in between sobs, looked at me and said, "Mom, do you still love me?"
I melted.....with guilt, tears and sorrow. How can I behave so badly that my innocent 5 year old looks at me and asks if I still love him, as if it's his fault that his mother is an emotional mess.
One week in Relief Society the comment was made by a sister after this sister's mom defended her daughter's parenting to yet a third person. This mother wisely told the third person that "she may not be a perfect mother but, she is the perfect mother for those kids."
Really, if I'm the perfect mother for my kids I would not want to see the imperfect mothers. I am hoping that I don't have another week like this past one for a really long time, if ever again. This family can't handle it. I can't handle it. My emotions can't handle it. My mental stability can't handle it.
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