Sometimes I think – Wow, I really handled that well.
Sometimes I think – Man, I could have handled that better.
Quite often I wonder – Did anyone see the way I handled that? I really hope not.

Sometimes I think I’m not reading enough to Grady.
Sometimes I think I’m not reading enough to Annie.
Sometimes I think I’m not reading enough to myself.
Most of the time I’m probably right.

Sometimes I wish Annie would just stop acting like a baby.
Sometimes I wish Annie would just cuddle up on my lap and be a baby.
I can’t tell you how many times I wish I had another baby.
Or how many times I thank God I do not have another baby.

Sometimes I compare my kids to each other.
I shouldn’t do that. But sometimes I do.

Sometimes I pretend I have to go to the bathroom, or that I have a headache, or that I have an important call, or that I’m deaf and didn’t know my bedroom door was locked – so I can get away from my kids.
And other times I suffocate my kids with tons of hugs and kisses and squeezes and tickles because I think I love them so much I might eat them.

Sometimes I am consistent.
Most of the time I’m not.
Sometimes I lie to my kids and then put them in timeout for lying to me.
Sometimes I tell my kids not to eat junk food and then chug a soda and inhale some cookies behind their backs.

Sometimes I am really early.
Sometimes I am on time.
Sometimes I’m so off schedule that I send in the class snack two days late.

Sometimes I splurge and spoil my kids rotten.
Sometimes I freak out about bills and wonder how we’ll ever afford college.
Sometimes I say “Fuck it!” and get a mani/pedi and pay for an extra two hours of babysitting.

Sometimes I get up early and go to the gym.
Sometimes I hit snooze and scream at Jason because no one is going to make it to school or work on time.

Sometimes I am a sweet and kind and understanding wife.
Sometimes I am a raging lunatic who can’t understand why a man can’t figure out how to make a bed.

Sometimes I’m really good at being a mom.
And sometimes I blow it.

But I always, and I mean always, love being a mom.
Except that sometimes I’d rather poke my eyes out.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *