I didn't post yesterday and am struggling with thinking of something to post about today but do not want to go TWO WHOLE DAYS without posting because what will my fans do? think? read?
Maybe. Slightly. And desperate and paranoid. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love this blog. And loving it means I would like it to do well... whatever that means.
The last two days though I've been dragging my ass. Hard. Today I ventured to Regina with my two oldest children to do a bit of clothes shopping. It was mostly good. Until, on our way out of town, I almost hit two teenagers on bikes. The vehicle in the outside lane had stopped but I was going a tad fast to stop and thought they would wait to make sure everyone was stopping before they crossed as this is a major street. They didn't. I slammed on the brakes and afterwards listened to a diatribe from my son, who's been a licensed driver for all of four months, about my "many accidents" and how long did I even have a license before I got into my first accident. I was somewhat stumped by this and said "years?". His reply: "That's not what Dad made it sound like".
Have I mentioned I am tired? Have I mentioned I have been divorced from said Dad for eight years, separated for ten? Have I mentioned I was 16 when I became pregnant by said "Dad" after three months of dating and had I not, likely never would've engaged in a long term relationship with Dad? Does anyone get the sense this may have pushed a button?
Sigh. So off I went into my very own diatribe of how "Dad" clearly has his own perception of our time together and is quite grandiose in his relating it to them. Or maybe I just said, "He makes stuff up".
Well, he does.
Was it necessary for me to launch into what almost amounted to a full-scale attack? No.
I hate Bad Mother Days. I know we all have them but in hindsight they are always so avoidable. We were all charged up from nearly hitting children on bicycles and I think that is what took over rather than a rational discussion of driving and cycling safety and into a discussion of their father's version of history as compared to my own.
I am also stressed because I couldn't really afford today but they needed some school clothes and it's not their fault I got fired and we are a little strapped for cash. They are not really wanting for anything and wear their fair share of brand name items; some paid for by themselves and the odd treat from us.
Why, if we can't afford it? Because I never had White Reebok runners. Because I never had 'lock-up jeans'. Because I wore the same pair of glasses from Grades 5 through 8 and even the teachers were happy for me when I got new ones.
Don't get me wrong, I had all of my basic needs more than met. I had clothes. I was warm. I ate very well.
At 12, 13 and 14 though? That gets forgotten and all you remember is carefully planning out the week's worth of clothes so no one would notice you wore a pair of jeans more than once. And telling kids you "forgot" where you got your "new" shirt from, when complimented on it, because it was from "Sally Ann's" (for those of you who don't know, that's the Salvation Army).
So today I spent. Today I snapped. Today I was a Bad Mom for a minute but maybe? I was mostly trying to be Good.