a grumpy mama

is ceiling leaking?
had eyes closed, felt drip on face
oh, it’s wee one’s snot

I’m having this guilt problem right now. It seems like all I do is express irritation with the wee one. I’ve turned into one of those harpy moms, I think.

"Please don’t do that."
"Hey! Stop screaming when you talk."
"I don’t care if ninja turtles make that noise, that noise gets little boys a timeout."
"Don’t put your penis on your sister."
"Sit closer to the table when you eat."
"Why did you throw clean clothes on the floor?"
"Licking other people’s hands is gross. Stop it."
"Can you wash your stinky feet, please?"
"Tooty McTootsalot can’t sit next to me in the car right now. Sorry."
"Well, if you can’t find your shoes, you can’t go outside."
"Clean up the melted popsicle, don’t STEP on it."
"You have to tell me what you want, I can’t read your mind."
etc.

I feel like all I ever do is nag and point out things that drive me crazy. I try to make sure I compliment him when I’m not nagging, and I try to make sure I explain my exasperated harangues ("If you don’t sit closer to the table, the cheese from your pasta falls on the floor, and then the dog eats it, and it gives him an ear infection because of his allergies and we don’t want that, right?)

But frankly, I’m tired of of having to explain myself to a four-year-old. I want him to LISTEN TO ME. I only want to have to ask him things ONE TIME. I want him to learn from one day to the next to STOP DOING THE SAME THINGS OVER AND OVER. I, Me, Myself, The Grownup – I AM THE MOMMY.

But timeouts only go so far. And a timeout for dropping cheese on the floor when he seems to genuinely have forgotten to sit closer to the table seems ridiculous. So I nag. And I hate it. I hate how my voice sounds doing it. And I’m sure it’s just as unpleasant for other people to listen to, as well.

This is what you have to do though, right? This is what you do to raise a possibly upstanding citizen, right? You teach him right from wrong. You teach him about consequences. You teach him to make decisions on his own – to think about things before doing them. But I have to adopt that tone to get him to listen – you know the one, the mom-in-movies tone. The nag tone.

Bleh.

I hate the nagging mom tone. If the nagging mom tone was a cell phone ring, no one would have cell phones (note to self: investigate making this happen). But I guess I have to do it. It sort of works and that’s better than not working at all. And it’s better than raising a person who never thinks about other people. But I hope it gets better. I feel like such a drag. And don’t tell me moms have to be a drag. There has to be a happy medium somewhere. Right? Right?

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vroom vroom

humping Volkswagen
whatever gets the job done
doc says to try it

to induce or not
it shouldn’t be so tempting
yet it really is

five days til due date
not enough Zantac to last
the heck will I do?

nursery: all set
cervix: is raring to go
baby: just chillin’

Easter haiku

secret easter tryst
in dark closet, exploring
stolen bunny cake

easter day madness
non-stop talking, darting eyes
j. beans laced with meth?

pink spiral slices
ignore all Wilbur questions
eat very quickly

very many dyes
very, very many eggs
that no one will eat

helpful note for you:
deformed, trunk-melted bunny
is traumatizing

musing

very big red butt
can fit down our small chimney
but I can’t wear jeans

we watched Charlie Brown
but all their voices have changed
Linus makes me cringe

shopping is not done
but stores are so crowded that
Santa will bring hugs

first time in six weeks
not a bad sacrifice for
bagels and donuts

neighbor’s christmas lights
quite spirited in the way
they blink. All. Night. Long.

Thanksgiving haiku!

pie filling tastes of
relatives’ holiday stress
eat store-bought instead

grandmother’s china
filled with turkey and gravy
all it’s ever known

Thanksgiving morning
It’s time for the parade! For
us all to ignore!

ah, sweet potatoes
please do not be mad that I
like your topping best

stuffing or dressing
a debate for the ages
‘cept that dressing wins

broccoli and rice
with butter, cheese and butter
and Phazyme sprinkles

on this occasion
will football be allowed, or
must I talk to you?

random haiku for you

grody crawling bug
is it really worth your life
to gnaw on my foot?

all the time: same pants
it’s unconscionably lame
but budget worthy

must be back to school
I’ve just bought seven new books
for no good reason

smell of number two
one part gnarly, two parts great
that’s pencils, not poo!

chewing fingernails
not America’s past time
but certainly mine

sometimes people suck
when do you learn this lesson?
can’t really be taught

speaking of some suck
being attacked by your town?
really quite uncool
(you’ll have to register to read the story. bastards.)

time wasting haiku
good for getting brain flowing
not good for deadlines