ding dong...

i had just finished a rewarding pilates for abs workout, and endured an 18 month old who thought it was hilarious to sit on my face while i was on the floor grunting and breathing like a crazy person trying to survive the pilate's for abs workout; when my parents called.  they wondered if they could stop by in a few minutes, they had a package for asher. 

i of course said yes, and quickly dived into the the shower while matthew picked up a living room full of baby toys.

they arrived and mostly ignored matthew and i while they doted on and laughed at sweet-and-yet-oh-so-naughty asher boy.  then the tides turned.  my dad had jumped on the computer to tell us about his new discoveries on ancestry.com. (snore, bore, ick, no thanks...) and then he tried to open my blog to read the latest entry.  his face got very serious and he looked at me cow eyed, "sis, are you done writing?"

"what are you talking about?"  i snapped back.  i snap a lot, one of my many downfalls. 

"put on love.  are you done writing?" 

i instantly felt defensive and lost, like i had brought home a C on my report card and was sure it was because the teacher hated me and not because i just didn't work hard enough.  but how would i explain that this C wasn't my fault to my parents... "when would i do that?  i have no free time!"  he was saying something to try to keep my emotions neutral, but i couldn't hear him.  my emotions had already been thrown into a whirlwind.  my emotions whirl a lot, another one of my many downfalls.  "i'm a little busy, with a husband, and a son, and working full time, and going to school, and babysitting, and trying to keep up with the house.  i don't even have time to do all that... when did you want me to fit writing a blog in there?" 

he looked at me concerned, and not angry at all with my little bit of a tizzy i just threw for no reason.  "i just miss it, that's all."  and he turned his body away from the overly emotional daughter and back towards ancestry.com, probably afraid i would blow up into a million pieces at any moment. 

and i sulked.  because, the truth is, i could find the time if i really wanted to.  i sulked, because i kind of missed it myself.  i sulked.  because, truth is, i just feel so damn overwhelmed all the time.  and i wonder why other working moms don't feel this way.  i wonder why i never hear anybody else talk about hating to drop their kids off at daycare, and crying in the car on the way to work at least once a week.  i wonder why i don't hear about other moms failing to hold themselves together at a simple question from someone who loves them.  i wonder why i don't hear about other moms forgetting to pay the electric bill.  i wonder why i don't hear other moms talking about feeling completely lost.  i wonder why i fail at this everyday, and it seems everyone else can do it with ease. 

and then 2 days later asher throws his first public tantrum.  i mean HUGE tantrum.  fists flying, feet stomping, alligator tears falling, and the wailing... oh my.  until i tried to make him take a step.  then he was flailing and screaming and crying in the middle of the street.  THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET.  and i became that mom.  you know, that mom with the kid that throws tantrums in public places.  and i instantly hated myself for all the times i gave that mom a dirty look and wondered why she couldn't control her kid.  and i instantly hated myself for having to put him in daycare. because you know, every problem that a child has must be a direct result of being in daycare and not home with his mom. (this is of course not true, but this is what people will imply, and this is just another thing that working mom's can add to their guilt ridden worrying mind. as if they don't have enough to blame themselves for and worry about.)  and i dragged him into daycare, kicking and screaming and crying.  and the stares, oh the stares.  from the kids, from the providers, from God himself.  "he's mad.  he's throwing a little tantrum.  i think we've entered the terrible two's."  i giggled an akward giggle, but mostly felt embarrased and ashamed.  i passed him off and ran to my car where i cried the whole way to work.

i am a hot mess.  i am a frantic, harried, lost, mess.  but i have love.  i love asher, he loves me (at least i think he does).  i love matthew, he loves me.  i have family that loves me, and allows me to snap at them and just shrugs it off when i do.  i have money to buy groceries, and a roof over my head.  i sometimes have money to buy new shoes.  i have a job in an economy when many do not.  i have the ability and freedom to go to school; to make my dreams a relaity, to learn.  i am blessed.  i am imperfect, but i am blessed. 

and i couldn't keep my dad's voice out of my head, "are you done writing?... i just miss it, that's all..."       

and then i remembered the community i feel when i blog.  i remembered the free form of therapy that putting the words on paper (or screen) is.  and i realize, i need this blog.  the world may not need me to blog, but i need to blog to be a sane part of the world. 

so, here it is dad.  worthless crap of writing, from your snappy overemotional daughter.  but i am still writing.  put on love hasn't died yet.


  1. I am glad you are still writing. I have missed it too, even though you don't know me. I can relate so much to what you wrote today. I feel so bad when I forget to pay a bill, or mail a check to my son's savings account so my sister-in-law thinks we lost it - again. Or when I wonder if working my part time job (the one that pays for the kids private school, we live in the city, it's "necessary") is bad for my kids. Or bad for my sanity, because I feel crazy in the head and like depression is clawing at me yet again. So thank you. Thank you for being honest so other moms know they aren't alone.

  2. Oh my dear Melinda.....
    I do miss you, but I also understand.
    And temper tantrums???
    Alexandra's best was at Toys r Us..... we were buying something for someone else.... her voice kept getting louder and louder, tears, falling down. I ignored her. I could feel the eyes of every mother on me. Oh to just disappear at that moment.
    Suddenly, my little pumpkin looked up and said, but mommy, you aren't listening. I squatted down next to her and explained that until she spoke to me in a voice that was polite, I would not be listening to her. I could not bear to hear that kind of voice.
    It worked. It took much longer than I had ever hoped. I was sweating buckets. But my little girl and I were able to talk, and I told her that I understood how hard it was to be disappointed.....
    Hang in there my friend.... we have all been through it!

  3. Hang in there, Melinda! Those moms have been there, too. If they haven't, they will be. It happens to the best!


  4. Gina19:41

    Working mom with guilt raising her hand too...
    Missed you...but totally understood you were living life, which is exactly what you are supposed to be doing! Blessings to you!

  5. Melinda, My children are teenagers now and I wasn't a working mom, but I still think there's guilt all around. Guilt that because you're at home, the house isn't immaculate, the dinners are more assembled than cooked (hello rotisserie chicken and salad from a bag), the birthday parties, baby books and scrapbooks aren't spectacular, etc. etc. After all, if I'm staying home, shouldn't all those things be happening? All that to say, perhaps some measure of guilt comes with the title mother.

    Any way, glad you are back writing. You were missed.

  6. Your were missed! Welcome back!

  7. Mel, this was just beautiful! I know that I feel so blessed to have you to call when this baby is born, and I feel like I'm screwing everything up every minute of every day, to hear you say it's normal and that it might get better, or it might not. You are an incredible mother, wife, daughter and (especially) friend. Love you. Miss you like you have mo idea.

  8. Anonymous14:07

    I have missed your posts, too.

    Here's what I do...take a deeeeeep breath. Sometimes, it works!

    Bridget in Minnesota

  9. Anonymous14:23

    I wrote a comment that was two paragraphs long, but when I went to post it it got erased. I will take that as a sign from God to keep it simple and just say I'm really glad you're back. :)


  10. Yea, you're back! :)

  11. Axelle the french reader01:16

    Dear Melinda, I do agree with a lot of comments and totally with Julie.
    What you'll do or not, you'll feel guilty.
    It's a huge subject of discussion.
    Don't worry, we're MILLIONS to be in your shoes.
    You know, I'm 39 years old, I'm a working mom and my 2 children went to daycare. So I understand all your questions.
    If I have a learned ONE thing in my life, is that the grass is not greener in your neighbor's garden : the other mothers meet the same problems as you (as us), maybe they don't SHOW it, maybe they don't talk about it, maybe they don't want to let you know that they are in trouble, but we all cross those feelings.
    That's exactly the same in your couple life. Sometime, you can think that a couple of friend of your is better than your couple. You're not in their bed.
    Never forget to make the difference between what people show and what people live.
    Anyway, it's true that we missed your post ;)
    Very friendly.

  12. Wow! You just never know how many lives you touch. Maybe "It's a wonderful life" is true after all.

  13. Anonymous21:11

    Welcome back, you have been missed! Our DIL is going through the same sort of feelings. She wants to work, loves her job, loves her daughter, but wants a little away time, too. We try to step in and help when asked. We all love our young families and want to help. You are not alone. And, you are oh so loved. That may not make the tears go away, but God can take that love multiply it and help you make it through the bad times over and over again.
    love and prayers, jep

  14. i missed you too!

    you are so wonderful and i'm glad to see you're getting back on the proverbial horse. saddle? i actually have no idea how that saying goes.

    either way. keep on keeping on.

  15. As a mother of 2 tennage children, I have said very often to some close friends that I wish us moms could be honest with each other instead of everyone pretending that there kids are just perfect, straight A, never do no wrong children. Mine sure aren't and it would benefit everyone if we were truthful. Your not alone none of us are perfect many just pretend to be!

  16. i'm always afraid of what would happen if other people could step into my head and know what a failure i really am.

    and i covet SO strongly the ones who 'have it all together'.

    and the older i get, the more i realize there's no such thing.

    we're in this together. and i'm walking with you. every step.

    love you. mean it.

  17. Missy21:43

    Found your blog forever ago through your MIL's blog, whom I found.....well, I don't remember how.
    I've never commented but I have to say.....this blog meant a lot to me today. I'm a stay at home mom to two little girls (1 baby and 1 5 year old) and having "one of those days." The guilt, the worry, the feelings that I am the worst mother on the planet and everyone out there is cut out for it EXCEPT me. Even though I don't work, I can understand what you're feeling and going through and can appreciate it.
    Hoping for the best for you all,
    Missy in Virginia

  18. Maybe you and I can find a way to work part-time and watch each others little boy part-time. Sounds like a win-win to me!


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