How Do I Hate Thee?

Let me count the ways.

Perhaps it is a little early in our online relationship to show my true colors, but I almost can't help myself.   When I was about 14, I had a t-shirt that my family still loves to tease me about.  It said, "I Love My Attitude Problem."  And while I no longer love my attitude problem, it is still a problem.  Just ask my poor husband.  Here is a list of things that I am taking issue with today:

1.  bacteria2_large.jpg

This little baby is campylobacter jejuni, and it is currently making the life of a very good friend very miserable, to say nothing of the injury it is causing her little five-year-old.  For those of you contemplating the plunge into vegetarianism, here's another one in the "pro" column.


2.  mug_billkelly.jpg

This is our local weatherman.  Note the happy smile.  I would like to give him the campylobacter jejuni and wipe it right off his face.  As if it is not bad enough that it is November 7th and it still has not cooled down in this horrible state  (today we are still 93!), he just keeps SMILING about it!  Every night he talks about how our temperatures are "above average," as if this is going to make me feel better about it.  I know there's a school of thought out there that believes something about not shooting the messenger, and I tried to remind myself of this all through May and June and July and August and September and October...and now, quite frankly, it's him or me.


3.  motherhoodmanifesto2.jpg

Finally,  I hate that there are so many ways to mess up motherhood.  I have one little person in my house right now that cries at everything I say.  Even when I say it in the nicest way.  (Though after this post, it is likely you won't believe I have "a nicest way.")  And I want to say to her, "Yes, I know.  I believe you deserve better.  And yet, you've got me.  That would make me cry too." 

I never thought I would be good at this job.  I never did.  Then I remember one day when Caleb was about 9 months old.  I was walking with David, pushing Caleb in the stroller and remarking that I was good at motherhood.  I had surprised even myself.   I remember being completely incredulous, saying,  "I'm really good at this.  I thought I would be horrible, but I'm really good at this."

Oh, I wish I had some of that confidence still.  It seems the older I get the less confident I become at EVERYTHING.  I doubt and question myself at every turn.  And it's wearing on me.  I hear the old complaints grinding on each other in my mind, and especially in my heart.   I hate that I can't turn that off.   That would be helpful.  So would cooked, bacteria-free chicken and a cold that too much to ask?