THE Mommy
That’s it. I’m finally going to post a “No Solicitors” sign on my front door. I don’t care how tacky or unsightly it might seem. I’ve had it.
Let me recap my night for you:
It was time to take a tub. Princess threw a fit because I wouldn’t let her sing ONE MORE SONG with her new Fisher Price Star Station Entertainment System
I reached my boiling point, so I yelled over them, “That’s it! I’m tired of you guys screaming and not listening to me. You get yourselves ready for bed! Mommy quits!” I walked into the garage just off the kitchen and slammed the door behind me. I sat on the stairs and listened. Suddenly, it was silent. I decided to count to 100 to give us all time to cool off. Princess is pretty self-sufficient, but BamBam is only 2. I didn’t want to leave them alone for too long, even though I wanted to be anywhere but back in the house with them at that very moment.
I heard them quietly talking and then heard footsteps going upstairs. I heard a couple of drawers open and close and the water in the sink turn on. I took a deep breath and let myself back into the house. Upon my arrival upstairs, I saw that Princess had laid their pajamas out and was helping BamBam brush his teeth. They looked at me and said “Hi, Mama” as if nothing had happened. How do they manage to switch from evil, head-spinning demons to the sweetest, cutest litte children in all of a couple of minutes?!
They took their tub with no major hoopla. They washed up and Princess even let me wash her hair without whining. That rarely happens lately. It was one of the only tubs lately that didn’t cause a flood in the bathroom. They even picked up their tub toys and put them back into the bag afterwards. I think they realized they were out of control and pushing me to the edge. I also forget sometimes that it’s hard on them as well when THE Daddy is away for work. Sometimes they don't know how to process their frustration/anger and it gets directed at the person closest to them...ME.
It was 7:30pm and we were just about finished getting into pajamas. I put on sweatpants and one of my husband’s t-shirts. Yeah, I know, how cute…when he’s away I sometimes wear his shirts. He doesn’t need to know this though because if he knew how much I miss him when he’s traveling, which is all the time lately, he would feel guilty, which would turn into something more like him acting annoyed. When you only have about 48 hours with him a week, it’s not worth working through the issues. We just want to enjoy being together as a family. Plus, I don’t need to ruin the image he has of me as “Super Mom: the wife and mother who can do it all.” Not yet, at least. I'll retire my cape when he’s home again…in another 4 weeks.
SO, the doorbell rings. The dogs start barking and the kids yell “Daddy!” As if Daddy would ring the doorbell at his own house. I look for a sweatshirt to grab to put over the (mostly white) t-shirt I’m wearing with no bra, my d cups out there for anyone to see…nothing to be found. Whoever it is can see me up at the top of the stairs and knocks, so I think to myself, “It must be important if someone is at our door this time of night, I’ll just answer it”.
I go down and open the door. The dogs escape into the darkness. I feel real safe with these attack dogs looking out for us. I see two young guys standing at the doorstep…and one of them is holding a BIBLE…shit!
They can obviously see that NOW IS NOT A GOOD TIME!! I’m standing with the door cracked open calling my dogs, arms crossed to cover my chest. The kids are still wet, peeking down from the top of the stairs.
They are Mormons. They start talking about how it is important to find Christ on earth as a family so that we can all be together for eternity in heaven. After the evening I’ve just had with the kids, the thought of spending an eternity with them…not so appealing!
I try to be polite and say “I’m trying to get my kids to bed. Now really isn’t a good time.”
Mormon #1: “When would be a good time to catch you?”
Me (trying to give them the hint): “Key word there is ‘catch’, we’re not home much”
Mornom #2: “Oh, my mother had 8 kids, I know what you’re talking about”
IF you truly knew what I was talking about, you would apologize for disrupting my evening and walk away. BUT NO…
Mormon #2 pulls out his calendar and says “We’ll come back Tuesday at 1pm, let me give you a card to remind you.”
I’m still looking for the dogs. Princess is on the stairs and says “Mommy, I love you.” They give me a look like she's the cutest thing on earth, which she is. I look at him and lie say:
”She is attending a Catholic school and we’re pretty involved with the Catholic Church”. The school part is true at least.
Mormon #1 gives me the card and says to call if something comes up.
Damn it! We already have the Jahovas regularly stop by with their flyers. I’ve gotten to like one of them, so I allow her to come. They’re so not pushy and she’s very sweet. I put the flyers in the bathroom. They make for a good read…when you need something to read in the bathroom. I don’t necessarily agree with their beliefs, but I don’t mind them. Now we have the Mormons competing to “save” us. I almost want to tell them, listen, we’re heathens…don’t waste your time please, but I’m afraid they’ll see that as a challenge.
It’s not just the bible thumpers who knock on our door. In the past year, we’ve gotten boy scouts, girl scouts, popcorn sales, kid’s books, flowers, pizza discounts…that’s just off the top of my head.
The "no solicitors" sign goes up this weekend. Think it will make them go away?
Even bigger question:
Do I actually call the Elders to cancel, or just screw out of here just before 1pm on Tuesday?
Get your own No Solicitors Sign, Pack of 10
Reader Comments (1)
That seemed like the evening from hell. Thank goodness your kids realized the hell that you went through and put their halos back on. My little 16 month old doesn't quite understand that yet, but hopefully she will! Great post.