Mom's Day Off

Today I don't feel like being a mommy.

There. I said it.

If today had been the day that I was to decide about becoming a mommy, I would have chosen the corporate ladder or stock-taking instead.

I don't want to wipe pee off the toilet seat.

I don't want to fix the dolly's leg.

I don't want to negotiate a peace treaty between my warring offspring.

I don't want to make sarmies to fill the gap between lunch and supper.

I don't want to be the human jungle gym.

In fact, I don't want to be touched at all.

I don't want to wipe noses, fingers or bottoms.

I don't want to listen to anybody count to one hundred.

I don't want to make sure anyone is warm enough.

I don't want to make sure the favourite teddy is always on hand.

I don't want to ensure that no-one gets square eyes from watching too much TV.

I don't want to park the little plastic motorbikes out of the way - I want to kick them into the street.

I don't want to encourage healthy brain development with Mozart and puzzle-building.

I don't want to dish out multi-vitamins and cough syrup.

I really don't want to listen to the Bare Necessities. Again.

I don't want to tell you that you coloured your picture beautifully. Please don't ask me.

I'm not in the mood for snot wiped on sleeves.

Today I have very little affection for God's creatures, and this would include fluffy bunnies and little girls.

I'm a bad mommy.

Sniff.