Not that I am dishonest with you.
This one, though, is raw honesty.
This is the kind of honesty that hasn't already been touched by truth.
It's the emotional kind.
It's the kind of honesty that is the first thing I think before I catch myself and do the right thing instead.
I. Want. To. Scream.
I want to tattle, yell, stomp my feet, cry, scream, throw something, slam a door, tell people they are stupid and that everything is their fault.
I don't want to do Mommyhood today.
I want to sit in a coffee shop and read. All day.
Yeah, yeah. I know. They are my children, my responsiblity.
I love them and I will make the right choices.
I will care for them, I will gently correct them. I will feed them and put them to naps.
I will wipe the dirt from their hands and faces. I will clean up their messes, I will instruct them in their chores.
I will hug them and kiss them and let them know that I love them always and anyways.
But mornings like this one make me want to pull out my hair and run away.
They are difficult and not fun. *sigh*
Anyone want to sit for six surly children today?
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