Rock Star Mommy

I am feeling nostalgic this week after sending my first born off to kindergarten one week ago. So here is something I wrote when Sage was 2 years old...

I want to be a rock star. I want to behave badly and have people say, “Oh, well, you know how it is—she is a rock star. That is just the way they are.” I want to cuss, destroy furniture, throw liquor bottles at the wall, punch mirrors, and (the coolest) shoot a TV screen out--not my big TV, maybe an old one, the kind with a knob and antennae. I want blue and orange M&Ms provided for me at all times. I want to check myself into rehab just to get some sleep. I want to go through the McDonald drive-thru in a limo. I want to get on stage in front of ten thousand people and rage and complain about all my problems and everything that pisses me off—and then have them applaud, light their lighters, and scream “Wooo, yeeeeaaah, go girl!”
I would be very popular, but also very controversial. I would say all the things other parents would only dream of saying. Women would love me because I speak about issues to which they relate. Men would love me for kick-ass music and loud gritty vocals. I would tell about the challenges and frustrations I face as a Home Administrator (this used to be called a House wife many tens of years ago.) I need an outlet for my domestic angst. Here are the songs on my debut album …
1. Don’t! Stop! NO! (The only words I seem to say now that I own a toddler)
2. Do you want a smack? (Oh yeah, I say that too.)
3. He dumped the laundry basket after I folded the whole load
4. Dropping your spoon pisses me off (and you know it)
5. I said come here and he ran the other way
6. Meltdown in the car (a mother’s hell)
7. Why does the pink toilet mold grow so fast?
8. The delivery that was supposed to come between 12 and 4 and did not come until 4:02
9. Listening to a running toilet for relaxation
10. Hey Cat, can you only yak on the carpet? Why not the hardwood floor?
11. Why can’t we have Spaghetti every night? (That’s easy to make.)
12. Pee in the potty (Ballad to Sage and Alan)
13. Time out does not work, let’s just beat him (Just kidding, CPS)

I think that is a good start. The longer I am a Home administrator, the more material I amass. It is amazing to me how such a little being can cause so much frustration. One minute he is so sweet, the next minute he is running through the house screaming, chasing the cat, ripping his clothes off, and throwing them down the stairs. I say No, he says Yes. I say let’s go out, he says lets stay in. Ok, now let me tell you about Sage… If he does not like his food, he throws it across the room. He cries because he cannot have Spaghetti-Os for breakfast and Fruit Loops for dinner. He drives me to the brink of madness. Like Linkin’ Park says “Everything you say to me, takes me one step closer to the edge, and I’m about to break.” And just when I cannot take anymore, when I am about to run screaming from the house and throw myself in traffic, he says that one little thing, “You know what, Mama, I love you.” And then rock star mommy falls at his feet and kisses each one of his precious toes.