It's possible that I am well on my way to becoming a bitter old lady. My cup has always been more empty than full. (I wish, I wish, I wish I were an eternal optimist. Alas.) But lately a certain Scroogyness is becoming more apparent. I swear under my breath at people who don't use their blinkers, I pick fights with the Mister over how tightly he screws on the lids to our condiments, and I nearly had to restrain myself after reading this post by Girl's Gone Child on Babble. Why someone else's maternal bliss should incite such ugly and unchecked anger in me, I'm not exactly sure.
I think it's because I have struggled since the birth of my wonderful children to find the joy in motherhood that seems to come so naturally to others. Oh, I love to sniff their hair and nibble their toes. I am entranced by their cleverness and agog at their beauty. But I am just as often trying my darnedest to get away from them, the little hellions. I often feel worn to a nub, disappointed in my mother-instinct, bored, exhausted, and snappish. I wish I didn't. I wish I found being a mother one long and constant journey down Bliss Boulevard. I wish I had more patience and generosity and gentle mom-wisdom to impart. I wish I sometimes made macaroni and cheese from scratch.
And this doesn't help:
In the grocery story, 11 am.
OLIVER (within easy earshot of all the nice people in the produce section): Mommy, you need to buy some wine.
ME: Not today, sweetie.
OLIVER: But Mommy, you really love wine. You really like it a lot.
ME (voice pitched high): Oh, I do, do I? Ha, ha. Well, we don't need any today.
OLIVER: But, mommy you love to drink wine. You need to buy wine.
A thing I like
Hey! Blogging is all in the family now. The Mister just launched the new blog for Green Apple Books & Music called The Green Apple Core. Check out his first post in which he artfully combines a poem (read by him) and some video (taken with his favorite new toy, the Flip). Also, buy lots of books so we can send our kids to college.