It's all his fault

One of the blogs I read frequently, MckMama, did a post about how she is a failure sometimes. I know we all have those moments. Recently mine seem to be happening more frequently. Her post is not what inspired this post. My inspiration for this post came from my own “sometimes I suck” feelings while reflecting on last night AND this morning. I started writing and thought it sounded familiar realizing that she had done a post about this not too long ago. Just more proof that we all feel this way sometimes.


Sometimes I suck. Bottom line. My intentions on posting this are not for responses such as “Aw, you are a great mother”, “cut yourself some slack”, “It happens to all of us”, “you’re pregnant, it happens”. I’m just looking to get it off of my mind and just so everyone knows I am by far perfect and cute the majority of the time. Sometimes I yell at my husband for tiny things. No matter how much I want to justify just how right I am at yelling at him it is wrong and disrespectful. It is even more wrong and disrespectful when my boys hear it or witness it. I suck sometimes.

Sometimes I yell at my kids and wish for bedtime to be there sooner. How can that possibly be when I get so little time with them during weekday evenings? It makes me feel awful that I would think that way. Sometimes things come shooting out of my mouth and I even think where the hell did that come from.

Sometimes when I say it is bed time for me I mean it. So much as to go to bed and lock the door and not care what happens or what is destroyed when my head is on that pillow. Or who for that matter handles any disruptions that might happen after my head meets that pillow.

Sometimes the attitude in my heart makes its way to my face and there is no hiding how immature or hateful I am feeling at the time. Sometimes I pass that immaturity and hatred onto the ones I love the absolute most. Sometimes I slam doors even though it is an action I hate and takes me right back into some childhood emotions.

Sometimes I justify until I feel good about the horrible way I have acted. Blaming, finger pointing, name calling. You name it I can probably justify why it was done and make it seem logical to me anyways.

Sometimes I spank my kids. I know this is a hard subject to talk about and it is a hard one for me to even think about. Sometimes it is needed. Sometimes I jump to that resolution before trying other ways to correct the behavior out of my own lack of patience.

Sometimes out of my anger I don’t even kiss and hug my family goodbye. Knowing as I walk away I could regret it and already do, but I don’t turn around and right my prideful wrong anyway. I just throw a pity party and feel sorry for myself, cursing and blaming someone other than myself all the while.

Sometimes I blame all the wrong in my life on my husband. Everything can make its way down to why Dale is responsible for things sucking at a particular moment, true or not. Why must I treat him as the enemy sometimes when he is the one that should be by my side running down this sometimes sucky, stressful path with me? Why must I make his life harder and more stressful than it already is? Why is it that when I get mad my immediate reaction is to think I don’t need him and he does nothing around there to help me out, which is far from the truth? Why must I then think of ways to start removing him from my life? Why must all these feelings stem from him not starting my car this morning to warm it up before I left for work? I thought we all needed a little smile, but yes, that is the reason why I was soooo mad at him this morning. Last night, that is a different story.

But, it all makes me reflect on how I am reacting to things on a much wider scale. How I have done such a great job keeping my emotions in check while in the office, but completely failing at this at home. I guess a girl can’t have it all if she truly doesn’t try for it. It is my choice to make as far as how I react to things, but that is usually my very last thought. My first thoughts are I am pissed because so and so did this or so and so won’t listen to instruction, or I have told so and so about this a million times. You get the picture.

Sometimes I suck. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I know the issue lies with me and not with the ones I’m trying to blame it on. Sometimes our lives aren’t like this at all. Sometimes there is nothing but joy and laughter that fill our halls. Sometimes the boys get away with a lot and have their home to get their wild hairs blowing in the wind free of repercussions. Sometimes my husband can do no wrong in my twinkling eye. Sometimes I blow things out of proportion and need a venue like this to put myself in check.

Sometimes I fail, but I am always forgiven.