Being tired is a part of a mother's job description;
it comes with the territory
Don't Judge!
Don't judge another mother's choices in raising her children until you've walked in her shoes.
You Don't Control Me!
I’ve been assisting a gentleman get a program off the ground
and he’s a little bossy. I think he forgets that I’m not his employee; I
volunteered to help him. I don’t like being told what to do – at all. Anyway, I
had to put this Mister in his place. You
don’t tell me what to do; you ask me. Who does he think he is – Mr. Control? I’m
sure it’s just his nature, but it doesn’t mesh with my nature at all; I have my
own control issues.
I know wives with controlling husbands or married to a man who
has taken the “leader” position to an ungodly level. No woman should be afraid
to stand up or speak up for herself. No wife should be afraid to spend money or
come and go as she pleases – within reason, of course.
I understand we need
someone to be accountable to in marriage, but who is the man being accountable
to for his spending and his going and coming?
I’m just asking! My attitude is justified. I’m aware of too many unhappy
wives who are being submissive to
raggedy husbands – husbands who are verbally or mentally abusive, controlling,
and some are cheating. Let’s not even speak of physical abuse – no excuse for
it at all. My attitude is probably why I’ve had issues in my own marriage. Only
God controls me.
Some of you may not
agree and that’s fine; but I make no apologies for speaking up when something
just doesn’t seem right, and control in marriage IS NOT RIGHT. There is a way
to treat and speak to a woman. We are precious jewels – daughters of a King,
and we deserve to be treated and talked to as such. I’m sorry, Mister, but you
don’t control me…my God does! Maybe this is the root of the problem with
submission. If husbands were led by God, wives would gladly follow!
A Horrible Mom!
A HORRIBLE MOM - Can I be real? A perfect mother does not
exist. We all snap, lose it, or reach our breaking point, then say or do
something we later regret. You're not alone! I receive countless emails from
moms venting and sharing their breaking points through Momsweb. With
permission, I'm sharing one I received yesterday. I'm sure it wasn't funny to
this mother and daughter at the time, but she later laughed after she calmed
down. The email is long, but if you're honest
with yourself, you may recall one of your "snap scenarios."
Good Morning,
Well, I could very well receive the most horrible mom of the
year award for what happened last night between my sweet daughter and I. I lost
it over a bug. A bug, A BUG!
It all started when I was on the porch and received a text
from her who was in the house. She was warning me to be careful when I came in
because the kitchen floor was wet from her squirting an American Cockroach. I
thanked her and added to just towel the floor dry, kill the roach and throw it away.
Simple, right? Oh no....
About an hour later my head was pounding from a headache and
I was feeling like ass. I had to pee so
I started down the hallway and my foot hit something so I looked down and lo
and behold...a giant American Cockroach on its back. What happened next can be
described as an over dramatized, hot freaking mess. Did I calmly ask her if
this was the same roach? No. I knew it was the roach. So, I screamed a colorful
array of words and told her to get her ass out of her room and come here.
"Is this the same roach you told me about?" Of
course her answer was yes so I told her to get a shoe and kill the damn thing
and throw it away. Oh. My. God! You think I told her to kill a giant poisonous
spider or something. The tears started rolling and that just pissed me off even
more. I screamed at her again to just kill it. Did she kill it? No. She stood
there frozen in fear, but I had no mercy. I yelled that I'm tired of always
having to kill these things and she needs to help. Then she referred to my fear
of rodents--my temper escalated further whilst I hollered back that while it's
true, I still have to kill them and dispose of corpses.
Finally, I told her one more time to get a shoe and finish
the roach off. She just stood there bawling. I went out, came back and she had
gotten a shoe, but she still was down the hall crying. I glared at her with all
my motherly might and said very slowly, "Get your ass down the hall and
kill that f---ing thing, NOW!" She just stood there and then screamed, "I'll
do it, but stop staring at me!!!!" I left and sat on the couch.
After ten minutes, she was still whimpering, sucking up
tears, trying to pep talk herself into doing it. By this time I was even
angrier. I stomped over to the dying roach, angrily removed my shoe, smashed
it, marched into the kitchen to grab a paper towel, headed back to the dead
critter, wiped its remains off the floor, threw it away and then to the top of
my lungs yelled, "There it is done! And I will not be your taxi anymore since
you aren't ever going to help me in this area."
Needless to say, I went to the living room and my dear
daughter went to her room in tears. I calmed down about half an hour later to
apologize. I also wanted to listen to her and find out why she had such an awful
time. She said it's because it's just us now for these kind of jobs and she
used to be able to rely on her brother or dad for that dirty work.
Her brother has left for college and her father has left me.
Yes, it’s just the two of us. It’s going to take time for both of us to get
used to our bug-killers being gone. As long as I don't lose it over stupid and
insignificant things anymore, hopefully that time will come sooner than later.
I got this out and now feel better...Thanks, Momsweb for being there! I'm sure
some perfect mother would have judged me!
Where's My Baby?
To the mothers of young children: Graduation day comes quickly, so embrace your precious moments with your babies, toddlers, and teens. Firstborn has graduated from high school, and it took a minute for me to accept that my baby will be going to college soon. Time flies and it just doesn't seem fair, but this is life.
A joyous celebration indeed, but he will always be my baby.
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