I adore my children. They are and forever will be my heart and soul running free, split three ways. With that said, I sometimes have an alter ego...Monster Mommy.
No one likes Monster Mommy, especially me. All three see Monster Mommy sometimes when the loud screaming, whining, and crying is tripled. They hear Monster Mommy scream, "Stop crying already!" Sometimes they hear Monster Mommy scream, "Do not say "No" to me again. I am your mother. You listen to me." Monster Mommy knows this does not help the situation, but for a brief second, and I mean "second" it seems to calm the headache.
Headache. I have had a headache for the past five and a half years. It began a couple of months after I got married in 2009. This headache has been with me through all four of my pregnancies. It has witnessed two losses, countless tests, one uterine surgery, poking and prodding, medications, three disappointments, pregnancy, completely natural childbirth (baby over 8lbs), six breast infections/abscesses, two breast surgeries, depression, more tests, more poking and prodding, more medications, five disappointments, buying a house, another set of tests, lots of poking and prodding, a ton more medications, twin pregnancy, extremely shortened cervix at 25 weeks along, twin vaginal birth (each baby over 6lbs) at 34 weeks along, and now a three year old and five month old twins.
It has been a busy five and a half years. It has beaten me down and picked me back up again. It has done a number on my body. It has forever changed my life and who I am. All this and I would not change a thing. If I had the chance to go back and not have any of the losses or disappointments, I would not have my beautiful winter Lily or my sweet Killian or my precious Piper. I would not know their love and that would be the most horrible thing to happen.
So Monster Mommy may come out every now and again, but don't we mothers need a little bit of a scary voice to, at times, control out of control kids? I hope to one day perfect Monster Mommy into not having a voice at all. I hope to perfect her, as my mother did, by just having "the look." Oh, the look that sends chills down your spine. The look that let's you know you're in trouble and you better make a run for it. The look that says, "Go ahead. Try that one more time and see what happens." Yeah, that look. My three year old laughs at my look now and makes her own right back at me. One day, Lily. One day, you and your brother and sister will dread that look. One day, you won't want to do anything that may bring out that Monster Mommy. Then, maybe then, my headache will go away.
