As I said a post or two ago, the "365 of 7" concept pretty much bit the dust mid-January. I think it's a really novel concept, and I might try it again sometime in the future. But for now, I have re-directed this blog to a more traditional (if blogging can be considered traditional yet) format, to be updated as time and interest permit me. I have renamed this blog "mom-ents," a little word from my recent post that's got a big meaning.
Every mother has had a mom-ent. Several. Thousand. I journaled my most recent mom-ent because all you Mama's out there can relate to that strung-out, end-of-your-rope, lack of patience feeling sent with love from the heavy-handed bartender of guilt and regret. We tend not to talk about the mom-ents in life that we're not "supposed" to have as much as we do the moments in life we're "supposed" to recall and celebrate.
There's nothing wrong with losing it. It's necessary.It's human. There's nothing wrong with saying "no," "I can't," and otherwise knowing your limits. My limit is 5-7 days in a small house with a 20-month-old alternating between Thomas the Tank Engine and Caillou on-demand while trying to keep/get the house clean and work a little from home. Add insane year-old Boston Terrier to this equation and a snooty cat that believes peeing in the bedroom to be the ultimate form of revenge. Also, add arguing with spouse for 3-5 of the 5-7 says in captivity. And...just for fun now...let's add a dose of second period this month, too. I think the result pretty much results in the mom-ent I spoke of previously.
I'm not proud of my mom-ents, but I'm not ashamed of them either. They happen. To everyone. And it's okay. And yes, one day I will look back fondly at the best days of my life and laugh, longingly.