Everybody Wants to be a Cat

Today was crap

I was short fused

All kinds of shit went bad

Tired and defeated and tired

It seemed the day would never right itself 

And it didn’t 

 

I never remember hearing my Mother 

Talk about how hard things were

She never

To my knowledge 

Complained about how draining it was to be a parent

And she did it by herself

With one more than me

 

She did eat baked potatoes a lot

At night after work

When I should have been sleeping

I would often find her

At the table 

Enjoying the quiet

A somewhat somber look on her face

Eating a baked potato

With lots of salt and butter and sour cream

Because how the hell else would you eat one

I never noticed then

But I guess it was comfort for her

Something warm and simple and just for her

Not to mention cost efficient 


After today 

Ground me down to a fine powder

Of all my worst traits

And general parenting fails

I found myself in the kitchen

Missing my Mother

Again

Tears running down my face

Again

Prepping her post work meal of choice

And running through all the scenarios I could have handled better


While it cooked

I made an appropriately sad salad

Hearts of Palm and Black Olives

Only those two things

I sat down

And was soon joined by my eldest

Because she never stays in bed when I tell her to anymore

She ambled to my side

Gazed over the defeated shambles that used to be her Mother and said

“Oh Mommy. Don’t be sad.”

Then she threw herself into my lap and slung her arms around my neck

I hugged her tight for a few minutes

She pulled back and looked over at my bowl

“Oh Mommy! What are you eating?

I sigh 

“Mommy’s eating a salad.”

Her eyes grow wide with genuine excitement and she proclaims to me like I have won the lottery

“Oooooh!! You are eating a salander?!?!”

Good gorl Mommy. Good gorl.”


I cry a little bit

From laughing 

Which is a nice change 

I tell her we can watch Aristocats before she goes to sleep 

We snuggle up in “Mommy’s big bed”

She spills an entire cup of water all over us both

Refuses to keep her pajama bottoms on

Because she “has to sleep in her legs”

We whisper sing the song together

"Everybody wants to be a cat.

Because a cat's the only cat,

who knows where it's at."

 

She eventually lays her head

Across my middle

Where she used to live 

Not so long ago

Pats my stomach 

Tells me I have a nice tummy

We fall asleep 

 

In two hours

The other one wakes

When I enter the room

She is standing

Peering over the rail of her crib

Her tiny perfection face

Illuminated by the light from the hall

She chirps at me

Like I’m being scolded

Her eyebrows seem to say

“Where have you been Mommy?!”

I scoop her up

Even though the blogs say not to

Rock her in my arms for several minutes

Until a deep sigh tells me

She can be laid down

 

The minute the door closes

She erupts into shrieks 

So I let her cry 

For only a minute

And even though I have done this parent thing before

I still slump down in the hall

And cry with her

Till she falls 

Fairly quickly 

Back to sleep

The current nightly dance continues

And eventually she ends up 

Back in Mommy's arms

 

And it seems sometimes 

Like all they do is take

Like one day

I’ll be no more than a stump for sitting

Like that tree

And that ungrateful bastard

 

Like we have been snatched up

By a greedy butler

Dropped into a faraway field

With only our basket

 

But

At the end of the day

What else am I really for

Except to give my life

Everyday 

For them

 

To keep it together

When I don't know what the hell I'm doing


I am constantly covered

In my children

Climbing my legs

Clinging to my chest

Looking behind

To see if I’m still there

Before they scamper further away

 

Sometimes I get breaks and rest

Sometimes I press until I break

And still don't rest


Somedays are great and dripping with joy

Somedays suck really badly

Times when I wonder

What the hell I was thinking

Times when I know

That my life was hell without them

 

Days when I win

Moments when I fail

 

Nights that seem made

For nothing more

Than Aristocats

Salty hallway waiting

Trees bending into benches

Buttery baked potatoes

And a "Salander"

 

Kat Petras1 Comment