Bluck!

Today I am going to rant. Today I am in a foul mood and the power of positive thinking can kiss my sizeable dimply arse. You know, before I had even finished typing those two sentences Elliott had pulled something off Mum’s bench and smashed it all over the ground despite only having arrived at Mum’s house 10 minutes ago! (Sorry Mum if you are reading this at work and I have not yet had the chance to tell you!). Where do I begin…oh yes, last night…

I had to go out last night so I explicitly told Mat what needed to be done for the painters to start work first thing in the morning. Toys put away, dishes done, curtains pulled down etc etc. "No worries babe, I’ve got it" he told me after I explained things for the 8^th time. Anyway, I came home from my night out at about 11pm only to find my "darling" husband asleep on the couch, the house a mess, dishes unwashed and curtains still up! Are you kidding me!!!! Needless to say, I was pissed.

So this morning I skipped the gym, again (hence my description of a sizeable dimply arse…apparently just having the gym membership does nothing to help you lose weight). Instead, I raced around like a mad woman trying to get things in order for the painters to arrive, get things organised for Soph’s kindy and things organised for Elliott and I to have a day away from the house. Everything needed to happen by 7:15am so it was chaos. My dear, dear husband, completely oblivious to how difficult it is to get myself and two kids fed, dressed and ready to head out the door by 7:15am, just layed in bed while I frantically tried to get things in order…that was until I blew up of course. After my explosion, he got up and took the curtains down but my frustration levels were already through the roof. As far as I was concerned, he could do nothing right because all of these jobs should have already been done. I am not a believer in the old saying "better late than never". No way, I prefer to embrace the line of thinking "bloody well get it done now, in fact, yesterday would be better!"

Once Mat had left for work, the kids copped the brunt of my cranky mood…another tick in the box for my Mother of the Year Award. The blow up I had had at Mat was nothing compared to the awful way I yelled at Sophie. I lost the plot a few times but the one that sticks in my mind is yelling at her at the top of my lungs, my neck veins at bursting point, "Sophie, how many times do I have to tell you, leave your brother the f*#k alone!" Oh yeah, highlight of my mothering life, screaming the "f bomb" at my daughter. Class act, Kate, well done. The best part has to be that unbeknownst to me, the painters had arrived early and pulled up out the front. They could obviously hear me yelling and hid out the front for a little while but what gave them away was one of their phones ringing. The only thing that makes you feel even more like shit for those less than grand mothering moments is when total strangers bare witness to it. They don’t know that 99% of the time (maybe 90%, probably more like 80%, alright alright, 70% perhaps) I am actually a pretty good Mum. Oh no, they will now have a totally warped opinion of me because they caught me in a moment of fury and weakness. Again, well done, Kate.

So I am sorry if you hopped on to view my blog today hoping for some uplifting or inspiring words. Today you will just have to take away from this is that I am human, I have really crappy moments of motherhood and I have learnt a valuable lesson…if I am going to yell and swear at my kids, make sure there is no one outside who will hear!