Once upon a time, there was a big, fat pregnant Mom. One night she was blissfully painting a chest of drawers for the expected baby while her other children entertained themselves downstairs. When she finished her antiquing, she cleaned her brush and went downstairs to get the children to bed. Lo and behold, she found two little boys who'd ignored her instructions to take a shower an hour ago and a little girl who'd sprinkled apple juice all over the couch.
The big, fat Mom was not happy. Her pregnant came out.
After making all the children cry and scurry like little ants to do their monster mother's bidding, she started to feel badly. But her pregnant hormones were still gnashing their teeth and so, no matter how much it hurt her aching back, she had to storm around cleaning the house to try to work off the steam.
And when the little girl started yelling "Shud-up" to the little boys because she was just trying to be like Mommy, the big, fat, sore, monster Mom felt really badly about her own behavior. But it just made her crankier.
Finally, all the little children disappeared to their beds quietly if a little nervously. All except the little girl who cried in her bed for half an hour until Daddy came and rescued her.
Even though she had washed the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, picked up the family room, swept the floor, ironed four shirts, and tried to relax by watching a lame home-improvement TV show for a few minutes, the big, fat Mom still had not totally conquered her raging pregnant hormones. And when she realized that the little girl was still not asleep at 11:30 pm because she'd been watching cartoons with Daddy, those always-to-blame hormones woke back up. So when the little girl finally got settled back in bed for good at midnight, Daddy did not get much of the back scratch he'd been promised earlier. And the big, fat pregnant Mom did not sleep very well because she was still so MAD.
Sometimes I wonder why I ever try to do anything more than dishes, laundry, and children.
4 comments:
i'm sorry. i sure can relate to that (my hormones are still going a bit crazy with a 7-week old).
sounds like you need some play-doh. sometimes its easier to blow off steam doing something fun and meaningless (though it doesn't give you the peace of mind that a clean house might give you)... at least for me. though i honestly have never pulled out the play-doh when i was mad it sounds like a good idea NOW
Nice story, I felt like that a little today. Hang in there and perhaps try not to tackle everything at once!
how did the chest of drawers turn out?
I'm sorry, but the thought of you raging mad and super pregnant sort of brought a smile to my face! (Don't yell at me...)
Post a Comment