single mom

When you can’t walk around much you realize how quickly your children will turn on you.

Yes, my kids are sweet and wonderful helpers. They usually don’t give me much grief and I am thankful for that.

However, they can be typical humans who try to get away with whatever they can. Especially when it comes to cleaning. This is always a battle.

If they take something out they should have to put it back. I don’t think it’s too much to ask. I’m not a freaking maid! They knew I had to stay off my foot as much as possible so I was leaving a lot up to them. Well, they didn’t clean the playroom, told me they did and thought they would get away with it.

It looked like Toys R Us exploded in the room. Which is typically how a playroom should look but it was worse than usual. It was like twenty children who drank nothing but coffee and ate a mountain of sugar had gone crazy in there.

I asked the kids to stop getting ready for bed. Asked them to drag pillows in to the playroom and I laid on the floor, propped my foot up with pillows and ice packs and told them to get to work.

You would have thought I was torturing them with unnatural sounds coming from them. The tears were over the top. A few minutes ago they were arguing that they weren’t tired and now suddenly they were exhausted. My ten year old daughter even laid on the floor dramatically like she was falling asleep.

They both started to flat out ignore me. This set me off.

I raised my scary Mommy voice a bit and gave them the crazy eye, “Pick. Up. NOW!”

My five year old son yelled, “I’m not afraid of you, WOMAN!”

(insert dropped jaws and blank blinking expressions)

I have never seen that boy so quick to tell me he loves me, call me pretty, say I am the scariest person ever and run like hell.

My daughter and I were so shocked we just laughed. After my son realized I wasn’t going to do… whatever he assumed I would after that outburst he came back, apologized and we spent the rest of the time laughing and picking up. Saying “I’m not scared of you, woman!” is said a lot now because it IS funny.

Yes, the kids not cleaning up makes me angry. The fact they try to pull dishonest acts like these seems like a slap in the face. But, they are kids. We all make mistakes, push limits and it’s a choice to stay angry or move past it. Staying angry isn’t fun for anyone and resentment will just grow.

Live, laugh and ninja kick… the room ended up cleaner than it’s been in weeks, we had fun and my son assured me many times that I am very scary. It all worked out.

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Post image for Moving Furniture, Overcoming Vulnerability aka I Hurt My Ninja Kicker

Baaada big boom! Also, if you appreciate how awesome my pants are and why then you get bonus points.

I do everything on my own. I have little help (though I do have awesome friends that will help if I ever actually need/ask… but I don’t… but that is another topic) but I’m okay with that. I like that I am obnoxiously independent. It empowers me. I embrace it!

Even if it ends up costing me.

I have this problem with moving furniture on my own. In the last several years I have hurt myself from doing this… but I can’t stop it.

I get bored. I move things around.

Usually I just hurt my back because I think I’m like mother fucking She-Ra and can move heavy things without help. I always prove that I -can- move things and sometimes prove that my body is older than I’d like to admit. Sometimes. So, it’s totally worth it.

I was rearranging the playroom when an organizer broke apart unexpectedly on my freaking foot.

You know those three drawer plastic thingies? Well, loading them up with paper, books and chargers/random electronic parts isn’t a good idea… especially when you move the thing and it falls apart and hulk smashes your freaking foot. It is still in pieces where it fell. The only thing I cleaned up is the blood. Ugh.

Also… Kicking the thing with said smashed, bleeding foot while calling it a stupid whoreface anushair isn’t a good idea. My son has a more colorful vocabulary and it did make the pain worse.

I felt at the moment I needed to teach the organizer bitch a lesson. I’m very logical at times.

I admit it, I cried. Actually, at first I couldn’t feel anything! My whole body rushed with adrenaline and I felt nothing. I knew right away it was going to be bad when I went from entire body numbness to uncontrollable crying. I. Don’t. Cry. I couldn’t stand up, move my leg and could not control it. The gaping cut in it was so bad it took me awhile to get it to stop bleeding. I was trying to stay calm because it was just me and my son there and unfortunately, he started to freak out. That makes me feel horrible.

He was really sweet. He brought me every first aid kit, frozen bag of veggies and ice packs as well as every stuffed animal he could find so I had “friends to make me feel better” while I failed at my attempt to keep it together.

Besides when my home and car got broken into I don’t think I’ve felt that amount of vulnerability. I don’t like being vulnerable at all but this was a completely different level that scared me out. Admitting that makes me feel even more vulnerable. It is an endless cycle and one that I loathe. I have to recognize this though.

I was on the ground for about an hour before I actually called someone. During that time I had to really think about my options. I do not go to the doctor unless it is something serious and at the time it was seeming kind of serious. That opens a whole laundry list of other hurdles. I can’t drive with my foot like this. Who will watch the kids? How will I get there? How much will this cost? What happens after if it really is messed up? What about camping? How am I going to feed my kids? How much more am I going to screw this up because I lack the ability to just freaking chill?

And the big question that weighs on my mind…

What if this was worse and something horrible happened to me… what will happen to my kids?

That was a jolting moment of reality for me. That always weighs on my mind and isn’t a new thought. My kids rely on me 100% and by me being an obnoxious independent ass about things doesn’t do them any good. It all just sunk in heavier this time.

This can potentially screw up our summer plans but it could be worse. So many more worse things happen and have happened to the people in my world. In many ways I’m very lucky.

We have Japanese Festival dancing coming up. I can’t miss that. I wanted to take them camping this month. My daughter’s 500 Club celebration for Girl Scouts is next weekend. I’m now at a loss as to what to do for my son’s 5th birthday party. I have Big Sur and Bishop Fishing coming up before I know it! And BlogHer… ugh… the list goes on.

All of this because I was doing something I know I should ask help for.

But, I am too programmed to think that it would be a burden to bother anyone… even though I’d drop everything to help those I care about and never feel burdened by them.

I like to make everything into some kind of lesson that I can walk away a better person from it. Right now I can’t actually walk so I’ll hop away knowing that I have great people in my life that I can rely on when I need it. I can ask for help. I can choose not to ninja kick everything on my own because there are people out there that would do for me as I do for them. I only keep good damn people in my life. I need to learn to let them help so I don’t screw things up for my kids.

… and next time I decide to rearrange an entire room I will ask for help…

or just remove the drawers in things before moving heavy objects.

See… that IS progress.

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