Okay…. I am here to confess. I love being a mom, but there are many times I don’t.
There are many, many Joys of Motherhood and many Not so joys of Motherhood.
I was blessed with great waves of PMS every 28 days.
It seemed to get worse with each child I bore.
By the fourth boy I was ready to strike like a cobra at the littlest infraction. Like clockwork, my once adored and cherished children would become the thorns in my side and the bane of my existence. Their joyful laughs and squeaky voices would then grate on my last nerve and send me and them into “time out.”
When I look back on their childhood it’s me screaming and them running out of the room protecting their back sides for fear that the side of my foot would connect with the cush of their tush.
But here’s what I remember and know they remember it as well.
The GO FISH incident of ‘93…..
Addison 7 yrs, Landon 5 yrs., Truman 2yrs ( and Monson 6 months)….along with 5 other little cousins, were playing Go Fish while on the extended famiy vacation at Bear Lake. All was well until time and time again there was crying over the Pink Fish cards. If they didn’t "end up" with the Pink fishes there was screaming and sadness…… well, I’ll show them screaming and sadness. I entered the game, grabbed all of the pink fish cards out of their chubby little hands and with upturned, cherubic, sad faces looking on, I took those cards and tore them into little pieces over the garbage can…. “NO. More. Pink. Fish!!!” “Play and be happy”…and I put myself in “time out” in the condo bedroom.
I know how to have fun on vacation.
I don’t know why my 4 boys got to have this mother. So many times I relive and regret and fear that they will all end up on Dr. Phil’s couch and say how their Mother was CRAZY through their ENTIRE childhood......Or maybe crazy once, every 28 days.
These are the types of memories I recall as Mother’s Day closes.
No wonder I think this holiday is only about my mother, Sheri, and my mother in Law…Wanee. I know who should really be honored and It’s not the crazy-fish-card –tearing mom.
Being a mom is tough.