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“You’re miserable a lot!”

By on May 16, 2017

Kids. Suck.

There. I said it. I have two of them who, for the most part, are pretty badass, fantastic little human beings, but every once in a while I want to trade them for a box of wine and a bag of coffee beans.

This morning, while they were getting ready for school, I was perusing Instagram and discovered that a movie about emojis (aptly titled the Emoji Movie) is being released this summer. As someone who uses the little icons on a regular basis in my social media posts to imply tone, I was super stoked to check out the trailer. Admittedly, it looks goofy but I’ve wasted more hours of my life in the theatre watching dumbass kids movies (I’m looking at you, Sausage Party! Uh, wait… wrong genre… and I liked that movie, if I’m being completely transparent here). Anyhoo, I expressed my delight to the absolute dismay of my teenager, Oz, and annoyance of my tween, Lola.

“It looks stupid,” she said.

“I thought they cancelled it, like, twice already,” he said.

“It looks AWESOME!” I declared.

They both rolled their eyes at me and continued getting ready for school.

“What’s it even about?” Oz said as he walked out of the kitchen.

“It’s about not having one emotion your whole life!”

“Uh, that was Inside Out,” he replied, rolling his eyes yet again.

I started looking for a way to express my interest on Instagram and told Lola we could go on a date night.

“I already SAID it looked stupid,” she replied.

“You look stupid!” I said, sticking out my tongue (you might be wondering who the 11-year-old was in this scenario, I know).

“You can go by yourself. I am not going to that movie.”


“Why are you so miserable this morning?” I asked, laughing at the ridiculousness of our conversation.

“You’re miserable all the time,” she simply stated.

Mic. Dropped.

I sat there not knowing what to say. Full disclosure, yeah, I can be a hardass on my kids and when my tolerance is low, everyone knows it. The last three weeks especially have been tough because I’ve had a compressed spine and the pain has been like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It’s been constant, 24/7, and has only started to subside the past few days after five physio treatments, and I’ve definitely not been the nicest person to live with.

“I am not,” I denied. “I’m in my Zen bubble, calm!!”

She rolled her eyes again and said, “Yeah, right.”

Oddly enough, I really was in a good mood. For the first time in more than three weeks, I woke up with no pain and felt pretty fucking good but her truth bomb made me a little defensive.

Bottom line, she wasn’t wrong and the truth hurt like fuck. Clearly, I needed to do some inner work because I don’t want my kids remembering me with the perception they have of me now.

See that picture with me and Lola? It was taken on Mother’s Day, just two days before writing this post, and she had given me the most sweetest gift of a book filled with loving comments and anecdotes that brought me to tears. I was touched by the loving words and thoughtfulness she had put into the gift and couldn’t remember if I’d ever given my mom something that sweet. The flip side of her sentimental side is that like me, she’s a Scorpio who has no time to sugarcoat shit and will say it like it is. It’s one of the qualities I admire most about her except when she’s using it against me. Then I want to trade her for the aforementioned deal.

I remember seeing the incomparable Wayne Dyer speak at a Hay House “I Can Do It” summit almost two years ago to the day and he said that when his kids were younger, they would call him out on not being the same guy at home as the one who inspired so many people with his books. That resonated then and it painfully reminded me now that maybe, just maybe, I tended to take my family for granted and didn’t show them the same kind of patience that I would show other people.

I try to console myself with the fact that I’m nothing like my mom was when I was growing up but the truth is I should be more patient and less snappy with my kids. Will I ever achieve the kind of patience my hubby has? Fuck no, the guy is a Saint who puts up with me on a daily basis.

Can I keep trying to show them that I really am the same person in real life as I like to think I am online? Sure, as long as they do their damn chores and don’t mock my Mario Kart skills, life will be completely Zen.

OM, bitches!