Bad

I was a 'bad' mother over the weekend. Completely lost it with B. about a comment he made related to 'stuff' that was on the kitchen floor. Grocery items that were sitting there in their bags, not put away. His comment made me so angry - I was literally flipping mad. Partly because he's right- those items didn't belong there. But mostly because he judges what he refuses to assist with. The majority of putting away and/or attempting to organize falls squarely on my shoulders, apparently because I am the 'mom' and that makes it my job.

I am not intrinsincly organized. My sisters both are. Amazingly adept at categorizing, culling, organizing, putting things away RIGHT away because there is a place for everything and everything must be in it's place. My paternal grandmother was exactly the same way - she even made little signs with instructions for virtually everything in her mountain cabin that anyone could/would touch. Reminders to double check the faucets were turned all the way off; the refrigerator door was snugly closed; linen closets closed and latched, etc. It was 'Grammy's way' and we all accepted it and most importantly, DID what those little signs told us to. My brother-in-law M. (who's an artist) even made beautifully elaborate, decorative signs to help with Grammy's cause so at least when we were all being 'reminded', we could enjoy the reminder more.

Our house doesn't have signs. It has a mom and a dad and two kids. It has 5 bedrooms, an office, 3 bathrooms, 2 dogs, 2 cats, a bird and a frog. A big yard, a pool, a kitchen, formal dining room, livingroom, family room and laundry room. It is often overwhelming though I love every square inch of it and wouldn't trade any of it for a gazillion dollars. I want to live in this house until I die - I love it that much. But it is a LOT to do and I frequently feel overwhelmed. And under-motivated. I've been fine with our house being what it is - slightly cluttered, not immaculate. It is home. It is MY home. And when one of my kids points out that something isn't where it should be, I lash out because I take it personally and because I don't understand why THEY can't notice things aren't where they should be and HELP put them where they belong.

I have tried to use the FlyLady technique - no martyr. Do what you can, when you can. Every little bit helps. I blew it this weekend - the martyr in me came flying out with wild abandon. Resulting in both B. and me upset - me angrily working more to clean the kitchen. Him in his room trying to work on HIS gigantic mess. He didn't inherit the 'organizational skills' from my side of the family, either. And J.'s side doesn't have them either. So B. struggles with trying to stay organized and trying to 'keep up' with all the stuff he has on his plate. I guess sweeping the floor and realizing that sweeping involved PICKING UP STUFF wasn't something he wanted to do. But he did it.

Motherhood is a tough job. The hardest part isn't the kids. It's how hard a person can be on themself. How I can berate myself and rip my insides to shred with remorse, regret, sorrow for losing it with my sons. Wishing I could turn back time and have that moment over again. But you can't. You just have to apologize (which I did), explain where your head was at (which I also did) and move on. Which we both did. That's what family and love are all about.