For as long as I can remember, I’ve hated Wednesdays…no kidding…hate them. In different stages of my life it’s been for varying reasons but still always Wednesdays. If I could choose a 4 day work week, I’d take off Wednesdays. If I were going to book a day spa, I’d do it on a Wednesday. The worst part about Wednesday, is the shame I wear when it’s over.
I am a mean mom on Wednesdays. Currently Wednesday is the only day of the week Lewis works away from home. He needs this time to be with grown ups who aren’t me. It’s important. But dang…Wednesday. It starts off with big fun plans. Cool things I’m going to do with the kids. Awesome places we will visit or a laundry list of errands we are going to tackle. A mountain we are going to climb with the skill of a Mount Elbert goat. And from here it quickly devolves.
First the shoes…just like our school days, no one can find the shoes. One is in the mudroom and the other is lodged somewhere in Pandora’s box with all the other evils of the world. Or magically their feet have grown three sizes that day and suddenly no shoe will fit, except the snow boots in the middle of a humid 90 degree day. Just wear the damn snow boots, it’s fine.
And then the whining begins. Where are we going? I don’t want to go to there!!! She’s sitting in my spot! He touched me! My tummy hurts. I’m hungry. I want to go home! I don’t want to go home! Can I have this toy? If we stay home, they will inevitably fight and if we go out we WILL get stuck in traffic.
Next a time warp hits and either no time has passed at all or it’s 8:30pm and we haven’t had dinner yet. 4 kids with hungry eyes staring at me wondering why I haven’t fed them and turning into caged animals on a sugar crash. Hitting and tattling and hating each other. I have raised monsters!!!
So I start to yell. I’ve been working on this for a long time, but I still lose my cool. I want to grab them and shake them and demand they grow up right now! All of the cool activities we had planned turn to molten lava or the outing is cut short. I feed them whatever is convenient and I send them to bed early, with rage.
Then when they leave the room, and I have a moment to reflect on my day, in the quiet, I find my shame. I start to wonder if I have in fact raised monsters who can’t follow simple directions and go 10 minutes without whining, or if maybe, just maybe, it’s me…
Maybe my hatred for Wednesdays has followed me. Maybe the capricious hump day energy poisons the day before it begins for me. But I am, never-the-less, left wondering if it’s me. I find my shame and then probably eat my feelings… I swear to do better next week. Next Wednesday will be better.
I know I have good kids. Sure they don’t always listen. And yes they fight sometimes. They’re not angels…no one said that. But they’re not monsters. And truly I don’t want them to grow up instantly. I don’t want to wish it away. That’s the best baby advice anyone ever gave me. It came from some regular customers at the restaurant when I was pregnant with Renna (my oldest). They said don’t wish it away. Every awful stage. The diapers. The horrible 3’s (it’s not 2’s…trust me). They are all fleeting anyway. They’ll be gone before you know it. Hang on to them for as long as you can. So every week, I hit reset. I apologize for Wednesday and I vow to do better next Wednesday. I keep making absurd plans and trying to make Wednesday fun. Maybe next week will be awesome.
We still have our cute moments. Like MY new hammock they hijacked today…but maybe if all the moms shared about their “Wednesdays” we’d all know we aren’t crazy. #imhavingawednesday