The other day was a bad day for me.
Bad because I had morphed into Mean Mean Mommy (not to be confused with Bad Mommy who should simply be called Lazy Mommy).
Mean Mean Mommy is the one that snaps at her child when she turns into a drama queen over something as simple as washing her hair. Mean Mean Mommy is the one that at the end of the day has had enough.
She's also the one with a huge basketball in her belly, swollen feet, back pains and total exhaustion.
You know her, right?
The other night my child was in the shower and I reached for the shampoo bottle which in turn made her FLIP THE F OUT.
Someone (okay, it was me) got soap in her eye the other night and Roo hasn't forgotten about it since, hince the flipping out.
She started screaming like I was pulling her limbs from her body.
She screamed so loud that my husband, who was out in the barns, could hear her and came rushing in thinking something was seriously wrong.
Of course all he found was Mean Mean Mommy and her bad ass shampoo bottle.
In my defense, my toddler refuses to tilt her head back when I wash and rinse her head leading to shampoo running down her face if I'm not fast enough.
So I told her to get out of the shower and when she did I collapsed in tears because of the frustration of the whole thing.
I mean, I was only trying to get the spaghetti out of her hair. Was that really such a bad thing?
Did I really have to be dealt all those screams because I was trying to be hygeinic?
I cried and cried... and cried.
I felt guilty. I felt bad. I felt like a Mean Mean Mommy.
Of course, ten minutes later she had managed to make her way back into the shower where she happily played with her ducks and listened to everything I asked of her.
I hate how Mean Mean Mommy comes out of me lately with no warning. I know it's all because of pregnancy. I know it's hormones, but come on! Why? Why can't things be easier? I mean, if this is how the next four weeks are going to go, I'm going to be exhausted.
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