Mommy temper tantrum.

Today I want to have a temper tantrum. A good ol' fashioned lay on the floor, kick my legs, scream, and a stomp up the stairs. I want to slam my bedroom door, plop on my bed - face buried in my pillow - and cry.

I want to lay on the floor for the work it was to lug our winter jackets and all of the things from the pool area into the Family Locker Room after swimming (because mommy forgot the lock for the locker) with Zoey and Logan and there not being a changing room available in the locker room after swimming. For having to stand there with items in my arms, 1 year old running around and 6 year old trying to hug/carry his sister constantly and trying not to lose my cool while I stood there and waited. For the family that tried to budge in front of me that clearly got in the locker room AFTER ME and tried to take MY dressing room. Please, don't even.

I want to kick my legs up in the air and on the floor for the McDonald's drive thru when we stopped to get a healthy lunch after going to the rockin' Sportsmen Show. When my husband forgot to order me a medium diet coke (of wonderful McDonald's fountain pop goodness) after I asked for an extra one (my sister was having the one with the meal) and he did not order it. "No worries" I say, "I will just have a can from home." (Side note: Do worry - you know how much I love those.)

I want to scream at how embarrassed I was at the Mall of America after Sea Life with my family on MLK day how I have been "dying" (I don't exaggerate, do I?) for a donut, and basically saved myself for that day at the Mall of America to have us park right by where the new Tim Horton's is, only to have to leave with a screaming and crying 6 year old who didn't feel like listening and blatantly disobeying us. To have everyone staring at us as we walked past them because clearly "their child would never have done such a thing."  I hear stories of other families where another mom might give them a "knowing" look - saying that they have been there before. All I found yesterday were looks of judgment, people who looked like they were on the verge of calling child services - and yes, I left donut-less and embarrassed. 

I want to stomp up the stairs because then we get home and the 1 year old won't nap (because she got a full 10 minutes in the mall) - so to take out my frustration I clean up the toy room (aka operation get rid of toys) with her happily playing behind me - which is great - only to proceed to Target where 6 year old has another melt down and mommy is just barely holding it together, and the one year old fell asleep on the 5 minute trip to Target.

I want to slam the door to my bedroom because now it is time for me to make dinner. I turn on the oven that had malfunctioned the night before, to bake a tater tot hot dish, only to have it not work again after the hot dish was ready for the oven, to have to figure out dinner without an oven for the 2nd night in a row. No one else was helping me figure out dinner, except for a request for some Mac & Cheese from the 6 year old, so I called my friend JJ (Jimmy John's) to have some sandwiches delivered.

And most of all I want to plop on my bed and cry because why as a mom is your job to constantly hold things together? Why, the majority of the time, do I have to be the peacekeeper, the toy picker upper, the sweeper, the cleaner, the tear dryer, the keep your coolness, cool as a cucumber parent who is arranging, making, doing, being - everything that is missing or may be lacking at that moment in the family?

 I love my husband. I love my kids. I really love my life, but come on, really?

There could be more, a lot more - and I know #firstworldproblem or #atleastyouhavekids -- but guess what...that is my rant.

Now - can I have a donut?


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