My littlest one (for now) carries around all his cars in a gigantic Mr. Potato Head. He washes them almost every day, is fond of putting them in unsuspecting shoes, and likes to unzip my pillow and stuff them inside when I am making dinner or doing something else.

Who cares.

I care.

I care about Mr. Potato Head.

I care that he cares about Mr. Potato Head.

Someone (the older one) just opened the door to his room and he’s sneaking to me. I should get mad but I don’t have the energy. He says he needs one more kiss and one more hug. He is my little Frances.

Today I lost my temper a few times. Like when they took off all their clothes to run around as “naked boys!” and that’s not so bad but does the two year old NEED his diaper off? I cannot handle bare butt sitting on all kinds of surfaces today. Please. At least keep your diaper on. Please.

I hate it when I lose my temper. Like really lose it. It happens and while it’s happening and after it happened I think, is this me? What is going on? And I’m sad.

I am a mom. I am not a good mom sometimes. My house is covered in crumbs. I have 305 unfinished projects. I get tired way too easily. But I am a mom.

I am a writer too. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it. Almost all the time it doesn’t feel like it. These little ones, my husband, this house, my emotions, fill up so much of my head and my heart that it feels like there isn’t much left to give–to pretend people.

Pretend people are important. I think really important sometimes. They’ve helped me through a lot of rough times; they’ve made me laugh; they’ve made me cry; they’ve made me understand things I couldn’t understand otherwise. I love pretend people.

But. In the end, real people are more important than pretend people.

I am trying to let myself go. Let myself be who I am instead of who I think I should be.

I don’t know how it’s going to end up but at least I’m trying.



Filed under Uncategorized

18 responses to “Be

  1. ann dee – you always say it perfectly.

    this is marathon month, and i told myself that one month of crazy writing would be okay in the long run for my kids. that they won’t remember the time that i spent writing instead of answering their questions or getting up in the morning and giving the little one her bottle or playing princesses when they ask. i’ve listened to that little one cry for 30 minutes because she does not want dad giving her that bottle, and the older one banging on the door crying for me to come out, and both of them giving up and being quiet because they’ve asked and asked and they’re done asking.

    and i hate it.
    i love my pretend people, but i can’t ever put them first.
    this is a problem because it means their stories never get finished.

    but i’m trying, and i’m learning to be happy with one good day a week of writing. and learning not to torment myself the other six days when i’m not. because those days are full of really good things that i couldn’t stand it if i missed.

  2. Cheer up! Your new little one will be here soon and your other little ones will forget that they were ignored for a short while. You just sort of broke them in for when the baby gets here.

    At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

    • Denece

      Amen. And then they grow up.

      Your best friends are sitting with you at Frances’ wedding and telling stories. They are remembering how quickly Frances had learned to climb up on the chair to unlock the door you had started to lock because he loved to run down the street without his diaper on because he needed to feel free.

      Now the grandkids come over and you smile at the cheerios on the floor as you sweep them up for zillionth time that day, and you’ve found them are giggling in your closet because they just found the little cars and the Mr. Potatoe head you have put next to your careful row of shoes to remind you of when.

      Then you gather them up on your lap and read them a story, like you did with your own kids that day you let yourself be just who you are.

    • Breaking them in. That’s what I”m doing! 🙂

  3. Angie Shinkle

    This post touched my soul. My family issues right now are also taking up so much room in my head and heart that I just don’t have enough left at the end of the day to give to my pretend people as well. I loved reading that I’m not alone, and that right now my real family needs me more – and I can be alright with that knowledge.

    I think you are amazing. This post was just what I needed to read today, possibly all month.

    Thank you.

  4. Martine

    I haven’t forgotten.

  5. Ann Dee you are an inspiration.

  6. I know, Ann Dee. I feel the exact same.

  7. Carol

    Gosh, I adore you Ann Dee Ellis.
    I’m really, really glad we are friends.


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s