Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Dissolve Soap Scum On Contact
I'm not going to lie.
I had a crappy Monday. (What is it with Mondays, hmm? Why are they so frequently "blech"?)
The crappiness of my Monday involved:
*Exhaustion, due to stinkin' allergies.
*Headache, due to stinkin' allergies.
*Adult acne. (Why is this an issue? Why, at 31? Why? Why, why, why, why, WHY, WHY??!!!!)
*Washing, folding, and putting away 800 loads of laundry. (I really do not enjoy doing the laundry. I have spent a substantial amount of time pondering why this is so. The conclusion I have come to is this: It's the folding. I hate it. More specifically, I hate folding the socks. Yesterday, I sat on my bed in the middle of an all-out sock fiasco, and I wanted to scream. I have to keep track of socks labeled, "24 months," and socks labeled, "5T." I have to keep track of socks that have a black stripe on the toe and socks that have a gray patch on the heel. Ankle socks! Athletic socks! Crew socks! AND THEY'RE ALL WHITE! AAHH!!!)
*Vacuuming the stairs...and almost falling down them in the process.
*Scraping and picking and wiping sticky, mushed-up granola bar out of my kitchen tile's grout. (I thought Cam had been eating a granola bar. In actuality, he had chucked granola bar bits all over my kitchen floor. I pulled him out of his high chair and went to retrieve my broom from the closet. In the thirty seconds it took me to do that, Cam had stomped and jumped all over those bits like a crazy baby. He may have been laughing, manically...)
*Deep cleaning my master bathroom, to include scrubbing and scrubbing the soap scum/nasty filth/slime/mold/gunk out of my shower. (It was a really dirty job and somebody had to do it. That "somebody" is me. Blech! Thank heavens for the almighty Tilex! It "dissolves soap scum on contact!")
I hate to admit this, but in the midst of my Monday madness, I neglected Ms. Lilly. I did not put together puzzles with her. I did not help her look for her tiny, plastic princess dolls. I was ornery. I was easily annoyed. I lost my patience with her, more than once. At the day's end, I felt lousy--despite a sparkling shower--because I knew I hadn't been a very good mom.
As I was putting Lilly to bed, she asked me if I would snuggle with her for a minute. I happily obliged and collapsed on her bed, utterly exhausted. We were lying on our sides, facing each other. Her small, skinny arm was draped across my neck, and my arm was around her waist. She put her dainty little face right on top of my nose. I could faintly feel her warm breath on my cheek. The following conversation transpired:
Ms. Lilly: Dad is my parent because he's my dad. And you are my mom, so you are my parent too.
Mama Leisha, yawning and smelling like bleach: That's right, Lil.
Ms. Lilly: So that means you guys are my parents.
Mama Leisha: Yes, indeed.
Ms. Lilly, happily: You are the best parents ever!
Mama Leisha, SHOCKED and completely "losing it": Oh, Lil! Such a sweet thing to say! I'm going to tell you a little secret, though...we have NO idea what we're doing. We've never been parents before. Sometimes we mess up. I mess up. I make mistakes. I really try to be a good parent to you. Every day, I try. I'm so sorry I wasn't a very good parent to you today. I love you, and tomorrow will be better.
Miss Lilly, sweetly, and like a wise old sage: Mom, it is ooh-kay. You already are the best parent. You don't need to worry. You are doing a great job, and I think you are a great mom.
Wow! Can you believe that? I thought about our "pillow talk" all night, and this is what I realized today: I had been so caught up in a crappy Monday and in making my bathroom sparkle, I forgot to see the "sparkle" all around me. And you know what? She's four, she's forgiving, and she thinks I'm doing a great job.
It's easy to feel like a lousy mom sometimes. It's natural. Common. Understandable. Being a mom is a tough gig! But remember (and most especially when you are feeling lousy), to your little ones you are everything.
That's waaaay better than Tilex.