My post today is a perfect example of why my husband has been known to say things to me like “It’s really difficult being you, isn’t it?”
The demons in my head and I are rocking out In the Powder Room today, just one click away.
I had so much trouble writing this post that I had to change it to 3rd person, throw in two vagina references and a poop joke, and totally fabricate the ending.
It’s not much, but it’s what I do.
-Iris
PS – want to talk about it? Please comment over there (if possible). Thank you!
No related posts.
It’s ok. Other mothers kinda terrify me, especially when they’re well dressed and primped up. I try to smile and be friendly, but when someone gives me the Up-and-Down look that seems to say “can’t you do better than that?” I fold up inside and won’t speak to anyone for a week.
Don’t feel alone! I feel like that every day in my snooty grad school program, and I’m not even a mother. I think the attitude you adopted, even if completely fabricated, is the best way to go. Plus, it makes me radiate that “I’m better than you because I am being NICE” glow that is rather becoming, if I do say so myself.
I’m a bit confused, why the third person?
Oh, it’s just a style choice. And it helps me place a little distance between me and the demons in my head. Plus, I’m using a lot of creative license here, so I needed a way to make it less autobiographical. Thanks for reading it!
Hi Iris! You might appreciate this one. A little bit of background info: I am a full-time outside-the-home-employed single mother of 3 kids ages 7 and 6-year-old twins.
This is a snippet of conversation that may or may not have went down this morning:
me (well past my asking nicely voice): “Go tell her to get her fuckin’ ass ready for school. Only don’t say ‘fuckin’.”
Turbo (one of the twins): “Or the A-word.”
me: “Yes, or the A-word. Thank you.”
That is all.
Love reading your blog & I recommend it to all my friends. Have a great day!
OMG, I love it! Hey, a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do. I like how you (may or may not have) ended it with “Thank you.” A little courtesy goes a long way. Sounds to me like Turbo is a great helper with an excellent command of the English language. Thanks for sharing, Melissa!
Melissa LOVE. The language. Called a friend so angry this week I said “Effing” so many times she finally asked me if I wanted her to just say the word f&ck for me. And I love Jesus too so it is worse! I know he has a sense of humor…..but doesn’t like my language. LOL. *Sigh*
At least they know what words are “grown-up words” and not allowable for children to repeat.
I figure they need to be aware that just because you see or hear someone else doing or saying something doesn’t mean they are allowed to do the same either and some things are only for grown-ups – I mean, I’m not going to stop having the occasional White Russian just because I don’t want my children to underage drink, right??
And maybe it will turn out like one of those situations where they won’t want to do it because it’s not as cool since mom does it all the time. : P
CANNOT. WAIT to hop there and read, I have a confession of my own you may enjoy, Lady Iris. Visit & read if you can.
Ooooh, I love confessions! Do you have a foot fetish? Do you have a felony record for arson? Are you secretly a man? Can’t wait for the sordid details!
And entries like THIS one, dear Iris, are why I keep reading your stuff. You are more than just another mom blogger who complains about the irritating stuff kids do or about the maddeningly mundane life of suburban housewifery. You inspire people to be better human beings. You do. I tend to be just a tad negative-y, especially when I’m busy, or annoyed, or…. well, hell, I don’t even guess I need a reason. And I’m rather defensive, so I always feel like those pinchy eyebrow looks from others have something to do with me…. even though I know they don’t. My phone is my best friend, because I can totally avoid dealing with other people’s shit while I’m staring at that little lighted box in my hand, and that’s so wrong. So thanks again for this kick in the pants. I need to be reminded that I have a purpose on this planet, and it just may be more than feverishly scrubbing toilet seats, nagging my children incessantly, or scowling menacingly at anyone who messes up my day’s workflow. It could have something to do with being available and aware of when somebody might need me to do something useful, helpful, and out of my comfort zone. As long as it doesn’t require me not to curse for too long. Because Dammit, there’s only so much a girl can do.