M is for Mean mommy

Friday? Oh thank gawd. However, I gave myself a rude awakening this morning when I jolted upright at 6:36 A.M. , and then lied to myself by saying,"Oh, don't worry, terri. Go back to sleep. It's Saturday."

I told myself the truth at 6:38.

This week was a little rough. Okay, alot rough. I caught a deep chest cold on Tuesday, got sent home from work on Wednesday, struggled through Thursday with a runny nose, and have hacked my way through most of today. Plus, the J-Man has sensed our anniversary approaching (tomorrow), and although he has never noticed his cycle of doing this, he is doing his level best to make me wish we had never said those fateful I DO words.


Every birthday, every major holiday, and every anniversary he starts freaking out, making the day miserable and unbearable. Oh - he also starts this about 3 days before the anniversary of his dad's death. Do you think it's subconcious? Do you think he just feels pressure to perform? Perform WHAT?! I am the shopper, I am the planner, I am the one who does the holiday and anniversary preperation. All he has to do is show up with a happy face. But no. Whatever.

I broke my middle son's heart the other day. I threw out some papers that have been stacking in my office in quite the haphazardly way. I am not a packrat. I get rid of everything I can as soon as I can. (Except shoes.) Turns out that stack was Jeremy's School Papers. And in that stack was a poster that he had made me for Mother's Day. In PreSchool.

Trying so hard not to sob, with deep dark circles under his eyes, he asked me, "Why would you throw out one of your kid's papers?". If that wasn't bad enough, I could barely understand him because his voice was so choked with emotion that he used no consonants in his sentence.
It sounded like this: "Aye -wha-oo-oh-ow-er-iz-a-erz?" And of course I had to make him repeat it. Which made him cry harder.

Why WOULD I? Who DOES that?!

I suck at this mommy thing. And wife thing.

I gotta get me a title that I am good at.
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