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!"