My kids are seriously so rude sometimes.
It’s as if I’ve taught them noting. Like, I’ve never told them to be kind or to not say mean things to others, or not to point out physical differences.
Well, they are good about it with strangers. But when it comes to me and my husband, all bets are off. It seems nothing around here is sacred.
Whether it be, grabbing our stomach fat and telling us our tummys are so big or asking me if I have another baby in my belly (when I clearly don’t).
Or telling me my “boobies” are gross or that they saw my “disgusting bum”. Like, they don’t run around this house in just their underwear, daily.
I’ve become a closet eater, not because I’m ashamed, but because I can’t just eat my food with out all these little sticky fingers grabbing at what I have. I can’t even eat a rice cake in peace.
And drinks, forget it, my cup has somehow become communal and for some reason they need to leave me little cracker backwash suvaniers every time they take a sip. The other day I went to drink my water and was greeted with the taste of Cheez-its. Totally gross.
Bodily functions for them is a delight. Burping, passing gas, picking their nose. It’s like a pastime around here. I thought having girls meant no bathroom talk, but it seems to be their favorite subject these days.
And then they treat me like their personal servant. My 3 year old never asks me to do something it’s always, “mom, get me food!” “Mom, put on a show for me!” I promise all of you, I teach her daily to say please. I’m apparently just not worthy of it.
I pray when they are let out into the world, they can handle themselves. It’s going to be really embarrassing one day if their teacher tells me that they drank from her cup or told her she smelled gross or something.
One day I will get my self esteem back and be able to have my own stuff. Maybe, in about 20 years or so, right?