I Forgot

by Cookie



Bitches, it’s been a long week.  You may have noticed my absence this week ( or maybe not), because I almost died from exhaustion several times.

Husband has been working the night shift and it’s been a rough go.  A teething Buddy has meant no sleep for this tired Bitch, and the Destroyer has dug deep to find my last nerve and jump on it repeatedly. Over and over and over until my will to live felt so weak I began to fantasize about a life like Tom Hanks had in “Castaway”.  With no one to talk to, except a basketball and figments of my imagination.


But maybe not.

I have come to accept the fact that I will most likely not have any more children.  Because I want the best of me for them, and a strung out, overworked me is not my best.  I want them to explore different after school activities without sacrificing just regular family down time together.  I want to able to afford to buy them that toy in the store and when I  say no it’s because they honestly don’t need it and not because it’s not in the budget.

And the idea of doing this again after age 40 makes me want to cry.

So while snuggling my Buddy to sleep the other night, after coming to the realization that he will be my baby forever, I felt really sad.

I felt really sad because I wasted this whole week being frustrated and angry and tired and bitchy.  I complained because my toddler was being an asshole.  (which she was, by the way).  But I had forgotten that I will never ever get today back, and I can’t guarantee tomorrow.

I forgot about all the moms out there that don’t get to hold their babies anymore and wondered what they must think about my bitching.

I forgot that her job is to be an asshole, and my job is to love her anyway.

I forgot that all these days will be gone before I know it, and I won’t get a second chance to be the best parent she deserves.

I forgot that she is one of two things that would make me throw myself in front of a train, even if she told me a thousand times that day to go away.

I forgot to be the grown up.

So, yesterday was a pretty good day.  We both kept our promises of no yelling, and promised today would  be the same.

I’ll try not to forget today, too. Ok?