"Springer Mom"

As in, Jerry Springer.
As in, the type of mom who appears on the Jerry Springer show.
As in, unfortunately, me...today.

For whatever reason (I can think of a few), I'm not hangin too well today. And immediately, I hate the fact that I'm--once again--bitching in my blog about the woes of mommyhood. Such a cliche. But holy shit, friends. Today's been the kind that just pushes you right on over the edge.
And it's not even all about my boys.
My boys will be who they are, and I accept that. I can deal pretty well, often singing nursery rhymes amidst the chaos and keeping a smile on my face. It's when I talk to my girlfriends on the phone (thanks, by the way, Sarah) mid-afternoon...speeding at Mach 7 down my street as though I'm in a getaway car...to go pick up my bridesmaid dress from the tailor's, while the boys nap...that I can truly unleash the beast festering inside.
Obviously I'm grateful here on two fronts: a husband working in the basement which allows me to speed away in said automobile...and a girlfriend who needs zero backstory in order to relate to my snarky-ass mood.

So it all started with Ms. Sue at the nursery today. I got the boys there at 8:15am...with tummies full of healthy breakfast and armed with snacks for an emergency. I go to Body Pump, ride on the bike for a while, and take a heavenly shower...even though at that point I was literally running from the showers to the dressing area to get dressed, and didn't even comb my hair out before picking the boys up. After a certain amount of time I start to feel like a shitty, neglectful mom.
But I get there, and they seem happy. Benjamin's coloring at a table with another boy...and Jonny's shoving all kinds of random shit into a smaller container. Happy boys.
They both bum-rush me and it's sheer delirium...happy mom, happy boys...and then, Ms. Sue saunters on up to us in her bad sweater and mom jeans.
"We had kind of a bad morning in here, Mom" she says.

First of all:
"Mom???"
It's Meg. Or Mrs. Richards. Pick one.
She's done this before, and every time it just feels a tad bit condescending and icky to me.
But whatever.

So, I ask: "Uh, oh...what happened?"
And she proceeds to tell me how Benjamin wasn't sharing well, didn't want to listen...and had a few time-outs.
Now, I'm all for the time-outs. No problem there. And I'm even MORE all for having them tell me what goes wrong. I refuse to be one of those moms who are in denial that their kids are ever guilty of wrong-doing...and I'll always be willing to face the music and deal appropriately.

But I'll NEVER be ok with someone talking to me in a condescending tone about my own children...and giving me advice on how to deal with them.
Here's what happened next:

"I'm sorry Ms. Sue...it's been a real challenge lately at home, I swear..." I say as I give Benjamin an I'm disappointed in you look. "It's been so hard with Jonathan into his things now...and I swear, it's the age, too. Three seems to be so much harder than two."

At this point she interrupts me, and puts her hand on my upperarm, and says:
"Now Mom...we know it's the age...but that doesn't mean we don't have accountability for our behavior."

Oh no you didn't, Ms. Sue.

Now, if any of you pals of mine know me at all, I tend to err on the side of stronger discipline than not. It's the teacher in me, I suppose. It's also the fact that I am a tireless believer in good manners and respect for others. So having this marmy of a nursery worker try to school me on good parenting techniques was just not what I was in the mood for this morning.
And what I hate even more, is that it put me in such a bad mood that I probably got a bit too upset with Benjamin. We talked in the car about it...and, as usual, he sort of got it...but then, about 30 seconds after our "talk" was over, he said something like "I'm gonna push Jonny, Mommy...and that will be naughty."
And so today, I couldn't take it.
I pulled over on the side of the road and put the car in park. We were just about to turn down Santa Cruz, so of course I was within eyesight of several neighbors. But I took off the sunglasses, (the weave and the gold earrings...haha, just kidding) and looked him straight in the eye.
"Benjamin, you are NOT allowed to push your brother."

"Ok, Mommy" he said...with his head leaning back into his seat...totally getting it, finally.
But when I put the car back in drive and turned down our street, I felt a bit like a Springer-esque mommy. Like I was just one "oh no you aint gonna give me no shit, boy" away from totally losing decorum as a mom.

Sadly, the rest of our day has been just as challenging...one thing after the next, making me increasingly aware of why my Nana turned to religion when my two uncles, her first two children...only about 18mos apart, were at this phase of life. I've heard stories, and they amaze me at what she dealt with.
And now I get it much more intimately than I'd like.

Insult to injury, this bridesmaid dress is seriously turning out to be more expensive than the elaborate party I threw in Chicago. (Denise, if you're reading this, forgive my candor...but this is my blog, and I need to vent. I love you and love the dress. Just need to bitch today.)
So when I order the dress, they tell me, that based on my measurements...that I'll need to order a plus size, which means I'll have to pay 50 extra big ones. Now, I know I'm not a skinny min...but holy shit, I'm not a size 18, which is what they ordered for me. And as a result of all the extra fabric (which I paid for), the tailor had to charge me EXTRA just to take it all in...and the seams/lines/layers of the dress are so intricate, that they're charging extra for all the time it took. Talk about a high maintenance piece of clothing. And to top it all off...when I went to pick it up today, the bust area was too big still...so back it went to the tailor's...and I'm crossing my sweet little fingers that it's all set by tomorrow, when I pick it up.
I can't imagine if Brian didn't work from home...some days, more than others, I'm grateful as hell. So grateful, in fact, that I took advantage and veered the big ass Explorer off toward the Bucks drive-thru.
Sister needed a late afternoon mocha.

I'm home now, waiting to take the boys to the playground after B's nap...hoping that I can regain some ground with my wee ones, and be a better mommy all around.

Because I swear...after today, all someone has to do is look at me wrong, and I'll be up outta my chair and swingin fists.
You know, like on Springer.