You ever feel like the worst person on earth? Or at least the worst person in your home (who also just ate all the yogurt covered pretzels).
Well lately I’ve been feeling pretty self-loathing. Sure, I’m about to give birth any day now to our second baby, but today I just looked in the mirror and thought, “that’s just no excuse. Get yourself together. Calm the fuck down, and go eat a salad while you’re at it.” I swear I need a large sign above my side of the bed that’s says “Calm the Fuck Down” with a picture of my unattractive, pissed-off face. That way I can laugh at how ridiculous I look when I’m irritational and hard to live with.
“What happened?” you might ask. That’s the worst part..nothing. I’ve just been a ball of anger these past few weeks. Rolling around like a crazy Hispanic pregnant woman that can’t stop eating yogurt covered pretzels. We have family visiting soon & I’ve been roaring at my husband like a tiger in the wild (he probably feels this is fairly accurate) about cleaning, and things that need to be done before my dad and his wife arrive in a few days. Not to mention he sits around at night playing video games after I’m done roaring orders at him..and attempting to do them without me micromanaging each move he makes. So, after all that, how dare he try relaxing while I’m laying on the couch looking at Amazon Prime deals. The nerve of some people.
Then there’s my lovely little 2 year old daughter who gets to spend the majority of her time with me (hastag blessed). If I were to guess, I bet there’s nothing she loves more than her crazy over-reactive mom telling her what to do all day. She’s so sweet, almost always does what I’m asked, and yet my temper with her has been less than ideal. I’d love to blame it on stress, or lack of time, or exhaustion. But I’ll be honest..we’ve spent more time watching movies (while I sleep on the couch) than we’ve spent outside breathing fresh air & all that good nature stuff you’re suppose to do with your kids in the summer time. Any time we do go anywhere I’m rushing her, which is not her style, and it breaks my heart a little knowing she’s trying to rush her little legs off so mom can get to Target and spend $200. Mom of the year award goes to me.
So, as you can see, I’ve drifted a little. Some might say I’ve become my own mother (RIP mom) while others might say I’ve become a pregnant, raging hormonal woman who’s nesting. Apparently I can’t nest like the sweet pregnant woman I saw at Target, saying sweet encouraging things to her husband like “I can’t wait until you’re able to use this diaper bag. You’re going to be such a good dad.” All while the sweetest thing my husband has heard me say lately has been “you’re strong & I can’t fucking lift this, so help me.”…oh you know me, keeping our fire burning since 2010. How did he ever get so lucky?
I guess all this to say is that today I looked in the mirror, didn’t like what I saw, but realized I needed a little more self-mercy & a lot of Jesus. I love this quote in Anne Lamott’s Book, Hallelujah Anyway:
“I’m the one who needs mercy—my mercy. The need for this, for my own motley mercy, underpinned most of my lifelong agitation, my separation from life and self.
Just to hear the words “mercy” or “merciful” can transform the whole day, because as the old saying goes, the soul rejoices in hearing what it already knows.”
Excerpt From: Lamott, Anne. “Hallelujah Anyway.” Penguin Publishing Group, 2017-03-15T14:20:15Z. iBooks.
Looks like there’s hope for me yet. And maybe tonight I’ll let my husband enjoy his night, hand him a beer, and let him play his video game with me trying to roar like an angry Hispanic pregnant woman.