So, there I was, reading this article about the "sweet spot", getting all misty and realizing that if I am not in the parenting sweet spot, I'm pretty darn close. I can take the minions to the beach and relax, I can let them play outside unattended, I am starting to feel like a person again!
Then it happened.
We went to Wal-Mart-Mart. Now, I'm not saying that this store is a horrible hellscape where souls are taken in exchange for cheap consumer goods, but we had a rough trip. Child #2 whining and crying (for the second day in a row) about how mean I am because I won't buy Goldfish crackers. And I can't buy Goldfish crackers, even if I wanted to, because of how she's acting. You know what I mean.
We buy a bag of Kisses, soft taco ingredients because there should be leftover taco meat at home, and a few other things.
We get home. FINALLY!!! Look in the fridge- my heart sinks-no leftover taco meat. Drop non-perishables, send oldest to crate the uber destructive dogs while we're gone, run to the store to get the meat. Go back home.
Start bringing in the groceries. The oldest comes to me with a look of concern. "The dogs are the soft tacos," she says, "and the chocolate-all of it."
"GET THEM IN THEIR CRATE! We have to get back to the store."
The kids are back in the car.
I bellow "Jesus Fucking Christ" at the empty wrappers strewn around the kitchen.
I get in the car. A stream of Fuck-based profanities escapes my body like none I've ever shared in front of my kids. I apologize, laugh, say "well, now you know how to use that word." look in the rear view mirror, they're trapped between laughing and terror of this "new" mom.
We return from the store, I'm cooking the long awaited taco meat. I hear screaming and crying from the yard. The youngest child has decided to pee in the yard and has pissed all over herself. Now she's squatting, crying and screaming. I get her inside-into a bath- then to dinner. No one is happy. Everyone is embarrassed. We just have to make it to dinner. GODDAMN IT!!!!
Then it happened.
We went to Wal-Mart-Mart. Now, I'm not saying that this store is a horrible hellscape where souls are taken in exchange for cheap consumer goods, but we had a rough trip. Child #2 whining and crying (for the second day in a row) about how mean I am because I won't buy Goldfish crackers. And I can't buy Goldfish crackers, even if I wanted to, because of how she's acting. You know what I mean.
We buy a bag of Kisses, soft taco ingredients because there should be leftover taco meat at home, and a few other things.
We get home. FINALLY!!! Look in the fridge- my heart sinks-no leftover taco meat. Drop non-perishables, send oldest to crate the uber destructive dogs while we're gone, run to the store to get the meat. Go back home.
Start bringing in the groceries. The oldest comes to me with a look of concern. "The dogs are the soft tacos," she says, "and the chocolate-all of it."
"GET THEM IN THEIR CRATE! We have to get back to the store."
The kids are back in the car.
I bellow "Jesus Fucking Christ" at the empty wrappers strewn around the kitchen.
I get in the car. A stream of Fuck-based profanities escapes my body like none I've ever shared in front of my kids. I apologize, laugh, say "well, now you know how to use that word." look in the rear view mirror, they're trapped between laughing and terror of this "new" mom.
We return from the store, I'm cooking the long awaited taco meat. I hear screaming and crying from the yard. The youngest child has decided to pee in the yard and has pissed all over herself. Now she's squatting, crying and screaming. I get her inside-into a bath- then to dinner. No one is happy. Everyone is embarrassed. We just have to make it to dinner. GODDAMN IT!!!!
Sometimes you just try to make it to soft tacos. Sometimes it sucks. Then you try to remember you've handled much tougher stuff. You're in the sweet spot.
