sunday evening therapy session

I turned on Beauty and the Beast.
Cate got scared and came over to sit by me on the couch.
I turned off the movie and we practiced expressing our emotions for the camera instead.
She was mad about that first picture.

"I wasn't ready. I didn't have my look right."

She kills me.

*   *   *

I was watching a show on the Oprah network a few nights ago.
I don't usually watch anything on the Oprah network.
I blame the fact that we don't have Netflix and all my regular shows are done for the summer.
Bummer.

The show I watched was something about Help! My Mom is Obsessed.
Or some dumb title like that.
 Honestly, it was quite frightening.
Teenage girls with moms who are obsessed with stuff.
Weight lifting and body building.
Food.
Partying.
Being in control.

It was really quite disturbing but I couldn't stop watching.
Kind of like how I feel about Hoarders and The Bachelor.

These teenage girls with moms who just seem so horrible.
Spending no time with their kids.
Being so incredibly selfish with their time.
Not listening and pretty much not caring how their daughters feel.

It was bad.
I felt sad for those kids.
They weren't even little kids.
They were teenagers.
And they were hurting and sad and just wanted their moms to care about them.

For how hideous that show was, I think I might set the DVR to record it.
That way, when I'm feeling like a craptastic mom,
I can click it on and watch for a few minutes and realize that I'm not so bad after all.

I'm not saying I'm perfect.
Far from it.
I apologize to my kids for not being a good mommy.
Not every day but on the really hard ones when I just feel like I failed.
And you know what they say?

You are a good mommy! You're the best mommy I ever had!

(Really they just don't have anything to compare me to so their standards are just not very high.)

So maybe all those times I take the kids to the park,
or the dinosaur museum,
or the pool (which is by far the greatest sacrifice on my part EVER),
or the library,
or just outside to play
when what I really want to do is just lay down and sleep
or paint something that has been waiting to be painted for a month
and what I really need to do is fold laundry
or vacuum or clean pretty much everything...

Well, that makes it all worth it right?
They've got my time.
Some days they've got every last stinkin' minute of it.
And even though those are the hardest days for me
and I end up grouchy to them and everyone else in my path
and I feel like all I want to do is either run away from home until bed time
or just hide under the covers and cry
they were worth it.

I hope my kids never ever feel like they need to call the producers of the
Help! My Mom is Obsessed show on the Oprah network
and audition because their mom is so horrible.

I would die.

But I secretly wonder what they'd tell the show producers I'm obsessed with.

Eek. Never mind.
That's a scary thought.