A broken wine glass and happy mom

This weekend was hard. As in like, hard work, hard on my nerves, hard on my mind.
Big R is in the field for harvest. In my world, (life of a farmer's wife) that means he is M.I.A. from now until November.
I am so lucky in that Big R is so hands on with the kids.
He's the one that plays with R1 the best and both kids listen to him so well.
As opposed to when I tell them to do  something and they just look at me like
I have something stuck to my forehead (which I probably do, like  food or something)
He's just so present in our lives when he is around. He even cooks. I am so lucky.
And then poof he's gone.
So yesterday we had nothing to do.
But that's a loaded statement considering that by nothing I mean
Trying to keep a 4 and 2 year old entertained.
I play. Legos, Spartans (don't ask. lots of fake swords and blood squirting sound effects) 
and dollhouse with R2.
I also had to make lunch and take it out to Big R and the other farmers. And take R1 and his friend to a birthday party and go to a church event. Plus, my house was in ruins.
Yesterday, I was ragged. I was grouchy to the kids, I was plain sick of Legos and I just wanted to curl up somewhere quiet.
This morning when I was making lunch, I left the kitchen to take R2 potty for the 67th time (can I get a potty training amen?) I heard a crash, crack and an "oh shit"
I round the corner to see R1 running out of the kitchen with a roll of birthday gift wrap in his hand and my handmade "Redneck Wine Glass" broken into a million pieces all over the floor.

I snapped. 

Sure, it's a cheap, redneck wine glass (somewhere, Honey Boo Boo's baby daddy cried out). But I made it and it was cute. And it was mine!

I told R1 to go to his room and that "I don't want to see you right now." As I said the words they hurt. But they were still true. It hurts my mommy heart to admit this but I feel like I need to purge. Rage was building in my veins, and I could feel the frustration with my kids grow fingers and inch up my back. 

And yet. It was just a stupid glass. 

Being a mom just does that to you. I give and I give and I do, do, do. And all I want is to have a chinsy little wine glass to collect corks and sit pretty on my cupboard. And now it's broke. And I just need to make a friggin' lunch. 


That felt good.

You guys still with me? 

So R1 went to his room and I cooled down. And swept up the evidence. 

Ok so last night, while guzzling a bottle of wine and catching up with Big R, a friend from high school posted this link.


This is such a crazy moment because there was just a few hours earlier yelling at my kids and  now, I was being enraged reading about this blogger who has a website that's sole purpose is to tell people why they shouldn't have kids.

Don't bother reading it. It's horse shit. Okay, do. And then comment and tell me how friggin' bogus it is. 

Here are some excerpts so that you don't have to waste precious time being offended.

100 reasons not to have kids:
  •  You will stay informed and engaged in current events and will remain an interesting conversationalist.
  •  You will retain your attention span.
  • You never have to yell, scold, correct or punish anyone (assuming your spouse and pets are well-behaved 
  • Your friends will appreciate your broad interests, your attentive listening and conversational skills, and the fact that you won't bore them to death talking endlessly about babies and childrearing.
  • You will rarely get sick.
and they ramble on for 100 total reasons!

Ok I am done because I don't want to get mad all over again by reading these. 

The gist is this. Some d-bag thinks he/she is being funny.
And maybe in some circles, they are. 

But I didn't think it was funny. Like, at all. 

And that is coming from someone who just told their kid to hit the road, jack. 

Even me, who cried over a broken redneck wine glass, who yells at her kids and throws a fit whenever she steps on those God forsaken Legos, would never ever say that she didn't want kids. 

They are everything to me. They are the only thing that I have ever been good at.
And shame on that blogger for diminishing what it means to be a parent.

Phew. That felt good.