I got your prayer right here.

Last Sunday while in church I sunk to a new low.

In my defense, our middle kitten B has started CCD, and his official education in the catholic church has begun. As part of his education, I like to make sure our children participate in mass by singing, and reading prayers aloud. You should be aware that we attend a teeny tiny church, where we sit right up front, with no choir. Therefore, everyone MUST sing. Everyone except my very cool husband...and of course now, my son.

As I noticed that my son (who is supposed to be learning and participating in mass) is not singing, I hand a prayer card to my husband and quietly whisper "help him sing." Father Rex, looks right at me, and I think in my pompous head that he must totally approve of what I am doing. Never-mind that he is leading an entire congregation in mass. I am certain that I just earned the equivalent of an adult A+. While I am gloating in my head (though I should be focused on singing a prayer) I glance to my left and notice that my son is not singing. 

So, I ever so gently, with maybe a teeny bit more urgency, whisper just a little louder "Please help him sing." Here is where it gets weird. My husband looks at me with a crazy startled look, and whispers "I got it, he is singing" while motioning "calm the F down" with his hands. I am shocked...cause I am pretty sure I just got shushed. When I glance up I notice Father Rex glance at me and then quickly look away, like he is slightly embarrassed for me, or my husband...I can't really tell. I don't think I need to say that I am pissed. 

But, I am in church. So I have to think about love and kindness and forgiveness. Meanwhile Father Rex is prattling on about how women were made from man, and that we are meant to be friends with our spouses, and to be a good friend to our spouse, we first, need to be a good friend to God. Sounds good right? Yes. 

No, because the only thing I am thinking in my head is "LIAR, LIAR, LIAR...HE WAS NOT SINGING!!!" I am seriously angry and just hating on my husband, thinking how can he possibly lie so easily right here in front of God? And then, oh yeah, God probably isn't really thrilled with my behavior right now either.  

Whatever. He was not singing. Pray on that.

I am the mean mom.

I have a problem. I just realized that 90% of the time I flip out on my kids it actually has nothing to do with them. They are the icing on a very HUGE cake.

Here's what happened.

Yesterday, I went for a 5 mile walk, which is a lot for me considering that I haven't worked out in, oh I don't know,  9 years. After my walk I was planning on getting some chores done around the house and then relaxing in my very clean home just listening and enjoying some silence. I made myself a beautiful egg white omelet with heirloom tomatoes, onion, cilantro and fresh avocado, a slice of wheat toast and some fresh ripe cantaloupe, chuck in my steaming hot fresh cup of coffee and it sounds perfect right? Riiiiiiggggghhhhhhtttt.

Until there is a knock at the door, and it is my neighbor, she needs a ride, and I am the only option. Here is where I become a huge coward, chicken-shit, baby. Instead of saying no, because I already have plans and an amazing breakfast to consume, I say yes. I quickly wolf down my delicious breakfast, sling back the coffee and then hop in the shower. We leave to run her errands. We get home exactly 30 minutes before I have to pick up K from school. Great, enough time for me to eat a quick lunch, and then go pick up K.

I had to run to the hardware store, so we do that, and then I take K for an ice cream. We then have enough time to run home, fix the sinks, and then go pick up M and B from school...now pay attention because here is where I turn into a total asshole. When we pick up M and B, B saunters out first and asks if M has math club today. I tell him no, DUH it is Tuesday not Monday, and to go find his older sister (like he should know her schedule?) While he goes to find her, here comes M, without a care in the world, moving slowly, swinging her water bottle, and the vision of it just sets me off. I ask here where her brother is. She tells me she doesn't know. I tell her to go find him. She tries to explain that they got out of class late. I then remind her that she is ALWAYS LATE (not true).  Right about then, here comes B (running by the way), pleased that he has found his sister.

Now the non-asshole type person would just say "great we are all here, let's go home!" Not me. I'm the asshole remember? Here is what I say to my kids: "EVERY DAY IT IS THE SAME THING, WOULD YOU ALL PLEASE JUST COME OUT TOGETHER? IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK? YOU DO NOT LEAVE WITHOUT HIM, YOU DO NOT LEAVE WITHOUT HER. GOT IT? GOOD" In the midst of my tirade, on the sidewalk in front of the school a little part of my brain whispers "except on Monday when she has math club."

Let's just say the rest of the evening kinda followed suit until I dissolved in tears in the kitchen while I confided to my husband that I am a mean mom. I cried, he hugged me, and we were both laughing, but I was still crying, laughing, crying, laughing. I know I should have just told my neighbor no. That I couldn't take her, but maybe tomorrow. My tirade was about me, my inability to tell someone no (unless you are my child, and then that is almost all I say) and the rush around that I do to get the kids here and there. I know that it isn't the worst, but it is certainly not the best.

Later, in the evening after the kids were tucked into bed, and I had whispered my apologies to them, I asked my husband if he fell in love with my before he figured out I was crazy, or because I was crazy. He said he fell in love with me because I was crazy! I said "Really? You love all those crazy tears in the kitchen?" He quickly responded, "Oh that, no, that's just nuts!"