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  • Writer's pictureLP Maxa

just one of them days

Y'all remember that song by Monica?  Just one of them days, that a girl goes through...I started singing it when I decided on a title for this post and now it won't leave my head. I'll probably dream about it tonight. Ugh. 

Anyway. I'm having one of "them days" today. Everything started out okay. I got a lot done this morning, had a great work meeting...but then somewhere between school pick up and taking my strapless bra off when we got home from ballet class...I got cranky AF. Not at any particular thing or event.

{Even though my kid and neighbor kids decided to mix puppy poop with water to "fertilize" the grass and that would have given me reason enough to get pissy.}

But either way, everyone in my house simply started to bug me. I needed everyone to shhhhhhhh. No one wanted to though. Certainly not the six week old foster puppies. So I powered through with my teeth clenched, muttering under my breath, because #momAF.

As my house finally got quiet and I made my detox tea {in my mind, detox tea will make me thin} I got to thinking about mom tantrums. I threw one today, only in my head of course, but I still threw one. My daughter gets cranky. It happens when she's tired or over whelmed or if she has to eat vegetables at dinner. And what do I do? I keep her mood in mind. I work around it and try to help her through to the other side. The sane side. I get her in bed a little early, I ask a lot of questions to make sure something's not bothering her. I give extra cuddles and pick my battles. Does she return the favor? Nope. But she's only five so I'll cut her some slack. For now.

My daughter doesn't care if I'm cranky, my husband just gives me a wide berth...My mommy fits don't matter. I don't get to kick and scream and demand chocolate. Or wine. I don't get to stomp up the stairs and slam my door. That would bite me in the ass within 24 hours. No one is going to check my forehead to make sure I'm not getting sick as an excuse for my craptastic behavior. 

All those little thoughts lead me to this spectacular one. We're the mom's. We're the fixer of fits. Why aren't we fixing our own? We know what we need, right? We know everything. So, it's time we start mommin' ourselves ladies. I marched up stairs and put myself in bed early. I have old Grey's Anatomy reruns on the TV, hot tea on my night stand and my biggest dog cuddled right next to me. 

My cranky mommy tantrum mattered to me. I noticed it. And for once, I'm fixing it. 😉 If anyone comes in here to bug me...then I'll try the door slam. 

Love, LP

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