Anyone who knows me will tell you this: I am not a positive person. I’m not negative, per se, but I am never the one who sees the glass as full. I almost think it’s ridiculous to do so, especially if the glass started out filled. You either spilled it or drank it. Either way, it ain’t in that glass no more. In general, I find positive people annoying. I think of them as flighty or crunchy or just fake. I have no time for fake.
Anyway, today was/ is an exceptionally shitty day, and on exceptionally shitty days, I project that awesome negativity onto everything, including (but certainly not limited to) my parenting ability. I am ready to cash it in, go back to work and rent a mid- week apartment in the city. I’ll come back on the weekends when there are two of us to handle this monster formerly known as my daughter. It is currently 3:04 PM and she has literally been screaming in my face since 9 AM. She has punched me (how does this child know how to punch? I don’t punch her! We don’t play video games, she doesn’t watch me do MMA), thrown things at me and told me she hates me. She has thrown an absolute shit fit in the middle of Macy’s, so loud and crazy that we had to leave the entire mall. She screamed her face off for the whole 25 minute drive. She fell asleep on me while I carried her from the car into the house (20 seconds?), but when I put her into bed, she screams about how she is NOT tired and she is NOT going to take a nap. Bedtime at night takes Matt over an hour because she is yelling about something, throwing herself on the floor in typical tantrum mode. I am at the end of my rope. I can’t get anything done because I either have a child hanging on my body or screaming in my face, telling me she hates me. I understand that its supposed to get better, but are we really supposed to endure this every waking moment? I’m starting to think that maybe I’m not right for this. That maybe someone more patient/ strong/ positive should have gotten this job. No one on earth could ever love this child more than I do, but maybe someone might be better at being a mother than I am. Is that negative, or just realistic?
And to add to this loveliness, I am not eating anymore. I can’t afford/ don’t have time/ cannot bring this banshee into Weight Watchers meetings anymore, so I have been tracking my food on MyFitnessPal. It’s great and it tracks my calorie intake, my fat intake, blah blah. Last night we went to Costco and ended up eating there. Sophie got a hot dog, Matt got that chicken bake thing and I got a salad. I ate 40% of the chicken, 25% of the dressing, no croutons. SOMEHOW I manage to ingest 23 grams of fat. My whole day has got to be under 40 grams, and I just blew 23 ON SALAD? Ok, whatever, so today, while at above mall, I order a grilled chicken sandwich, that also has 23 grams of fat. I took one bite, read that, and threw out the rest of my lunch. I am SO FRUSTRATED (and hungry). I am seriously ready to just eat candy bars and McDonalds and just say fuck it to this whole healthy/ skinny thing, resign myself to being fat. I work so hard, SO HARD and I get nowhere. I am starting to resent my friends who have (multiple) kids and just get thinner. I see pictures of my girlfriends who have 7 and 8 month old children looking slim and pretty, while I look bloated and manly, and my kid is almost 4. I hate having my picture taken. I stumbled across a picture of my friends and I at a wedding pre-kids and I literally started to cry. What I wouldn’t give to be able to look at a picture of myself (or myself in the mirror) and not want to hide.
Anyway. My girlfriend (who thankfully has no children) invited me over tonight for wine and crafts, and although no one should have to deal with me while I’m in this mood, I think I’m going to go. I need a break, I need a drink, I need 40 minutes in the car by myself, listening to the news about people in the world who have actual problems and not me who is just being a whiny baby.
Mommy Said a Bad Word 