I hate mustard. Mustard is the sauce of the devil. So, when I finally sat down at the end of the day to eat a meal with my family, and I tasted the evil satan-mustard, I cried.
Today, I cried over a sandwich.
But you know what? It wasn’t about the sandwich. I was overworked and I was tired and I wanted the day to end with a nice family meal, we all sat down to dinner together, my daughter had started talking about her day, my mind was a thousand different places because of life, and everything, and instead of just dealing with all of that, I lost it because my sandwich had mustard on it.
And, to be fair, anyone who hates mustard knows that once it’s gotten into the crevices of your bread and meat, there is no going back– every single thing on that entire sandwich will taste like mustard. WHY IS MUSTARD SO POWERFUL?
But that isn’t what really happened, what really happened was that it was that time of the month, and even though I have been having my period for like 28 or so years, once a month I STILL can’t get it together enough to get through whatever is happening. And now? Now I am watching it happen to my daughter and I want to do better I want her to not have to deal with all the crazy hormones and confusing feelings of being a WOMAN and also being a WOMAN WHO IS ABOUT TO START.
I wanted to cry and scream about how it isn’t fair, and I also really didn’t want to eat that sandwich with mustard on it, but maybe THAT is what I have to teach her. I have to teach her that YES once a month this happens, and it doesn’t happen to boys and that isn’t entirely fair in any way, but it IS life, and sometimes you just have to deal with a little mustard on your sandwich.
BUT– I also want her to know that it’s okay to lose it sometimes. It’s OKAY that you aren’t perfect all the time, and I don’t know if that makes me a bad mom, to lose it at the dinner table over a sandwich, but what I do know is that it makes me a real mom, a mom who loves her kid very much, a mom who looks forward to sitting down distraction free with her family at the end of the day, a mom who is real. A person who is real.
It’s hard when you are teaching your kids how to be adults when you haven’t even mastered the art of adulting yourself. But, maybe if the next time you flip-out over something silly, and your kids don’t get why, and it’s nothing crazy burdensome that will scar them for life or anything, maybe you tell them that mommy gets upset sometimes too, and that sometimes she’s irrational and ridiculous, and she needs to won her mistakes.
And you should know I don’t judge you. Not at all. Not even a little bit.
Especially if that flip-out had anything to do with mustard.