Unfiltered

– Posted in: Foot in Mouth, Guilt, This Is Supposed to be Fun, Travel, Worst Mom Moments

As adept as Verity is at using guilt, you’d think she was raised Catholic.  She blogs about life with her three daughters (a 7-year-old and 5-year-old twins) and other stuff that won’t go away at  The State of Being Real.

This seemed a whole lot worse until wrote it down — but just read it with a grain of salt and a pound of mommy-guilt.

So, as I sit in the middle of a snow storm, the girls are in Maui with my parents.  Big win, win situation.  They get a fun trip during their school vacation, and I get some much needed rejuvenation, reflection, reorganization, and rest time. 

As luck would have it, my husband was on a business trip the 2 days before the girls left.  It turned out not to be that big of a deal to get them packed and ready.  They were very good helpers, plus going to Maui means you need a whole lot less clothes.  What did end up being a problem was me.  Not a problem like take the children away and lock me up please, but a let’s add a few coins to therapy fund, please. 

You see, without my husband there to tell me, well, to can it, I do tend to go on and on.  I have a hard time letting things go (For those that know me, this may not be a surprise. . .).  Also, without said husband there for me to talk to, I didn’t quite realize that I was feeling rather emotional about the girls leaving for 9 days.  So, combine suppressed emotions, no other adult in the home and getting ready for a trip — what do you get?  Here are some examples:

Dinner Time (the night before they left)
Me:  “Ok, dinner time girls — we won’t get to eat dinner together for a while, so let’s have a nice dinner!”  (Are you wincing yet?)
Dinner proceeds with a bit more than usual getting up and goofing off…
Me:  “Come on, girls — I just want to be able to have a conversation with you before you go.”
LittleBug:  No words, just now has her thumb in her mouth and is giving me the look, that I translate to be, “Mommy, you are freaking me out, could you stop mentioning over and over that we are leaving you?”

Morning Time
Me:  “Ok, everyone up! Let’s get baths and showers before we go.”
Two out of three get up.  LittleBug, as usual, does not get up.
Me, after 10 minutes:  “Ok — time to get up and take a bath now.”
Nothing — no movement.  I go take a shower.
Me:  “Ok, too late to take a bath now, but get up.” 
LittleBug:  “But I want a shower!”
Me:  “Well, if you wanted a shower, you should have gotten up with me.  That would have been nice since this is our last morning together.  I really wanted some time with you.  But it is too late now.”  (Seriously, I know. . .)
LittleBug, now crying:  “But I want a shower. . .”
Situation resolved by big sister taking LittleBug into the shower with her. . . and by me finally getting a grip and filtering what I was saying.

Banking Time
Clink, clink — the sound of coins in the therapy fund. . .

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8 Comments… add one

Dena December 6, 2010, 12:08 am

Guilt. It's what's for breakfast.

PartlySunny December 6, 2010, 10:03 am

Dena, you write the best comments.

Firefly December 7, 2010, 7:40 am

Verity sometimes that filter just fails and this Moommy sounds worse then her almost five year old. “You are hurting my feelings and I'm sad already.” Tears insue from both of us and I think oh Goodness My Mom would have told me that “This isn't what we are doing and that there is no crying.” How the heck did she hold it together almost all the time.

Angie December 7, 2010, 3:59 pm

If you kept that filter on, you'd explode. And who wants to clean up THAT mess?

Jennifer December 17, 2010, 2:27 pm

You captured perfectly that double awareness that we so often have when the things are coming out of our mouths that shouldn't be and our inability to stop them. No matter what your girls went to Maui knowing you loved them!

Rebekah C December 17, 2010, 7:10 pm

Gosh, I know just what this is like! It's like watching a train wreck, listening to myself sometimes. Ugh. I try to hope that they don't hear it like I do. But I know better.

Therapy fund, eh? Good idea. I think I have an old jar somewhere…

Rebekah C April 7, 2011, 12:31 am

Gosh, I know just what this is like! It's like watching a train wreck, listening to myself sometimes. Ugh. I try to hope that they don't hear it like I do. But I know better.

Therapy fund, eh? Good idea. I think I have an old jar somewhere…

Firefly April 7, 2011, 12:31 am

Verity sometimes that filter just fails and this Moommy sounds worse then her almost five year old. “You are hurting my feelings and I'm sad already.” Tears insue from both of us and I think oh Goodness My Mom would have told me that “This isn't what we are doing and that there is no crying.” How the heck did she hold it together almost all the time.

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