Every few months I get a blast of my own mortality. I get sent to the cancer center where I have to have some treatments done. I do not have cancer. I am one of the few lucky ones there. I have something wrong, but the doctors aren't quite sure what it is. Anyhow, I have to go to this cancer center and get these blood treatments. They are long and tedious. I am stuck there for hours. 
     I hate being there. People look at me with pity, trying to figure out what is wrong. The husband and I try to make the best of it. We take lunch with us, and we have a date while I am getting my treatments. We sit there and talk. When we run out of things to say, we watch television in our little cubicle. When we don't have a sitter youngest joins us. He is the highlight of the day for each person there. Youngest brings a smile to the face of every nurse and patient in that awful place. 


My Confession


     I can't be the only one. I know I can't. Most moms have to feel the same way I do. Holy shit, can't I just get two minutes for myself. 
     Why is it so hard to find any time at all where little voices aren't yelling "mommy" or the husband isn't asking where something is. In truth, I believe I deal with it pretty well. I take it all in stride, and go with it...most of the time. But then, there are those moments. The ones where I am making the mental list of everything that I still  have left to do that day, dinner is burning, someone is tattling on another, and the husband feels the need to have some in depth discussion about something right at that very moment. I feel like my brain is going to bleed and all I want is quiet.  

     In most two parent households, one parent is the good guy while the other is the bad one. In the kid's eyes, there is one adult that allows them to get away with everything while the other is the rule maker. In our home, I am the bad guy. I can't stand it.