The Pressure is ON!

To all the new moms out there:  Beware.

To all the advanced mothers out there:  You know what I'm talking about.

Mother hood is A LOT of things:  Nurse, item location specialist, care giver, cook, maid, laundry bitch, dog sitter, ass wiper, booger wiper, dishwasher, tutor, and mentor.

Talk about pressure.

But the REAL pressure comes as they get a little bit older and they start understanding the things around them.

Expectations.

I expect my children to be kind and respectful to others, helpful, understanding, do the right thing, clean up their effing messes, do good in school and love one another.

Hell.... that shit is cake.  I wish that was everyone's expectations of me. But you would think your asking them to solve world peace.  Holy Shit!

But sadly, those are not my expectations.  Mine are much more harder and impossible and setting me up for the ultimate failure.... a child's expectation of the mother is totally different and FULL of pressure.

If things go wrong its MY fault.  They expect me to be a perfect mother.  They expect me not to make mistakes. They expect me to be a human dictionary and calculator.  They expect me to know all the answers to any thing at any given time and most importantly, they expect me to read their minds.

Now... let me say this.. I do not TRY to be perfect by any means.  Not towards my children and not towards my husband.  I am me.  I make mistakes.  Deal with it.

But.. its a pain in the ass when expectations of you are so high.

For instance.  My son's favorite breakfast is sausage and gravy with biscuits.  He has not had this in a while so I decided to make it today.  My daughter hates this, so in turn, I made her cinnamon buns because she loves those (a week ago anyway).

She comes out of the bedroom this morning and when I told her what was for breakfast.... well... let me just say.... if looks of disappointments could kill..  I would be 6 ft under.

I was baffled.  She LOVES cinnamon buns.  I just KNEW she was going to be happy about having them.

I asked her what is wrong.... Her response.. and I quote.. "I don't like cinnamon buns anymore, and you are supposed to know that ."

Well EXCUSE me!  A week ago she LOVED them!

But.. I am expected to KNOW this!  Even if she does NOT tell me.  I am supposed to know.  Damn me for sucking.

 If she knew I had to go peek at her shoes just to find out what size she wears I would probably win "Worse Mother of the Year" award.

Talk about effing pressure.  Holy Shit!