Recently I had coffee with a friend who is in a difficult place.
After an hour or so she said she was tired and wanted to take a nap, at 10am. I told her that she should go for a hike, take a real shower and not the BS “mom shower” that lasts 90 seconds, put lotion on her whole body (because that is a small act of self care), put on some lipstick and wear a nice – but comfortable – outfit and not just change back into her robe. It was solid advice.
Last night Scratchy was really upset at dinner, like on the verge of tears. When I finally got him to tell me what was bothering him, he told me that ever since the election I have been in a really bad mood and he wanted to know if it was going to be like this for the next four years.
My mood has been influenced by more than just the election, although that doesn’t help that even though Clinton got 2.2 million (and rising) more votes the Cheetoh Jesus is still the President elect. Just read my last couple blogs and put yourself in my shoes and you would be in a pretty bad mood, too.
But I’m a parent and while parents are allowed to have authentic feelings, we also have a responsibility to show up for our kids. Obviously these days I’ve only been showing up enough to rag on them.
I’ll cut myself a little slack, Scratchy is a tough-er kid than Itchy. Itchy likes to set his clothes out the night before school, get up early and take a shower so he has time to read a few chapters before going to school, and his life goal is to be valedictorian.
He actually asked me for tutoring in math and Spanish and told me what days after school work best for him.
Scratchy, not so much. He dilly dallies all morning, spaces out at breakfast, has to be forced to read, and is the biggest slow poke in the world. And he refuses to lift up the toilet seat which is making me c-r-a-z-y.
I know what parenting books would say, let him fail. Let him be late, let him suffer the consequences … and I will.
He has enough respect for his teachers that he would practically die of shame if he were to be late, which is why I try to keep it from happening but that puts the negativity on me instead of the responsibility on him.
All that said, I know that I’ve been in a foul mood and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say I’ve been depressed. So I decided to take my own advice and go to the gym, take a long shower and actually take time to put lotion on my legs, I wore an outfit that was not my one pair of sweatpants that I wore yesterday and a t-shirt, and I bought tickets for the family to see Dr. Strange.
It’s $5 Tuesday at the local theater. We haven’t gone to the movies in ages and we haven’t watched a DVD at home since my MIL got here because I just cannot enjoy a movie if someone is talking the entire time. She can’t remember what day it is much less follow complicated plot twists.
And then, of course, there is this …
Yeah, he’s not traditionally handsome but he’s smart and smart is definitely sexy.
So here’s to faking it until I make it, I feel better already.
Blue is doing much better but he’s not 100%. He’s acting like himself and eating although he isn’t pooping … yet. He is sharting, which sucks, but at least it isn’t as bad as the butt faucet, it just gets on his bottom and on his blanket. The laundry never ends around here.