Hanging Up My Hat

Richmond Mom Lisa McGhan

by Real Richmond Mom Lisa McGhan, Freelance Web Content Editor

 I know, as moms, we all face days where we just are at our wits end. Today was one of those days for me. My 8 year old was told on Friday to finish her homework before the weekend got started, because we had a full weekend ahead and there would not be time to finish homework later.
Plus, I know her, and I know she forgets about it and then at the last second scrambles to get it done. At 4:20 this morning, 20 minutes before my alarm goes off, I see the light pop on in the kitchen. I knew who it was without looking. I asked what she was doing. “Oh just working on something,” was her reply. I was not amused and I sent her back to bed immediately.
When 7:15 rolled around, I decided I should wake her and get her ready for school. To my surprise, she was already dressed. I had her come to the kitchen to eat breakfast, and I realized she was searching for a pencil. I asked why. She didn’t answer. I looked at the kitchen table and low and behold, there were two unfinished homework worksheet sets from Friday.
I was LIVID. Did I not tell her to do her homework on Friday? Did I not explain we had a full weekend? Did I not know she’d save it until the last minute? Did she dupe me on Friday afternoon when she was supposedly working on homework at the kitchen table for nearly an hour after school?
After my freakout session in the kitchen, I had their lunches made and we were ready to go. That is when my 5-year old informs me that he does not know what happened to his bookbag. “It was by the door, but it isn’t now,” he shrugs at me innocently. Well, I guess if I had not just come down from my angry mommy yelling fest in the kitchen, I might have handled this a little more sanely.
Instead, I went into a full on diatribe of “WHERE DO WE PUT OUR THINGS.”
Me nearly in tears, both children in tears, husband shaking his head at my maniacal behavior, we head for the car. In the car, I cannot just “let this go” – I go on to explain that we have RULES for a reason and not just to hear me speak or for me to be mean and controlling, but rather for life to run smoothly. Of course, I don’t think they heard a word of it.
Today, I’m ready to hang up my hat.
Maybe a nanny could do a better job at being mom, than I can. My ability to command respect has been severely diminished. Why was this so much easier when I was a babysitter? Those kids listened and followed directions. How come my own do not? I think I’m headed for a mommy strike. Who’s with me?