Not Me Monday is one of my favorite blog topics for a number of reasons. What a great chance to be absolutely real and to relax into this crazy dance of life, parenthood and relationships. The burden in the Mothering world to always be perfect is very suffocating.

Its like going out to a fancy dinner wearing your skinniest jeans, barely breathing or moving all night. Thinking only about how amazing it will feel to get home, peel off those ridiculous jeans and let all your mommy muffin-top hang out in some big ol' sweats.

Not Me Monday is a pair of big ol'comfy sweats to me. Even though a week may go by that I think, wow, I don't think much happened this week to write about. If I just sit with that thought for a moment or two, flashes of the past week and all the 'oops' and 'oh shits' come flooding back. It is absolutely freeing to not only laugh about them, but to also share them with you, my Faithful Few, knowing that you are identifying and laughing too.

This week seemed to be the epic battle of the wills between The Child and I. I feel tense now, just thinking about it. There seems to be only a certain amount of time that your child can "talk back" and yell "NO!" to everything you say, before you as a human being (with feelings) begin crumbling. All I want as a Mom is to have him respond "Ok, Mommy."

Really, is that so hard to ask for?

Even if he didn't do what I wanted, to at least have him obey with his words would be so validating.

During such epic battle this past week, it seemed I desperately required a time of retreat (can we say "Quiet Time"?!?!) Unfortunately, The Child decided that Quiet Time would be his opportunity to create the most damage. To secretly plan his next move of attack. At one point I walked into his room during Quiet Time to discover him on the floor (he's supposed to be in bed, with books) with his lamp, that was turned on, NOT stuffing it full of kleenexes.

Apparently he planned to burn the entire house down.

A small amount of time later I heard more interesting noises coming from his room, and decided it would be wise to sneak up on the enemy. I opened the door to not find him on the floor again with his lamp, this time it was smashed into a bazillion, razor sharp pieces.

Oh Goodness!!!

I tried so hard to NOT think about what could, would, should have happened if I hadn't walked in at that exact moment. I'm thinking he did not pull the lamp cord, causing it to fall and smash against the side of his bed. I did not then proceed to scold him for a very long time while cleaning up the glass. Part of me was not extra sad to say goodbye to the lamp that he's had since before he was born. I did not find myself just a bit extra mad or frustrated as this whole thing was going down in his room, I was trying to nap. What kind of mother would nap when she knew her child was awake? Not me!

I did not put him in time out and tell him to not move until I came back. During said time-out I would never take a shower, making his time in the chair not around the 25min mark. Nope, not me!

Since this week was one of epic battles, I was not looking so forward to a double-date night with our neighbors on Saturday. Minutes before the babysitter was scheduled to arrive I did not notice how disgusting my toilets were. It was like my eyes were opened to what the outside world would see.... a brown, disgusting film.

EW.

It was not me madly scrubbing all three toilets in the house, scolding myself for not noticing sooner and how could I possibly be out of toilet cleaner, too? Nope, not me!