I’ve found that the saying, “If momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy” to be completely UNTRUE! Why do people say that? My children, who love me dearly, could care less if I’m happy or not. They’re children, their very nature is selfish determination.
After schooling my children all day and carrying my 22 months girl in a baby wrap on my hip, I expect to sit down at night-arms free-to get some work done. However, as soon as I sit down my baby girl wants to sit on my lap; I try to redirect her to the couch, to her chair, to her brothers, to the television but she crys and crys.
I whine, “Please, Tatianna go sit on the couch with your brothers, pleeeease.” She stands there crying undeterred by the rejection.
I put on a strict face, “You can’t sit on my lap, so you’re just going to have to cry.” She does her fast action, run-in-place cry. If she could do that while not crying she might be able to win a silver medal in the Olmpics! Her feet are super fast!
When I try to explain, “I can’t have you on my lap, messing with the computer and throwing my papers on the floor. You’ll have to go and look at t.v.” (educational of course) She hollars and pulls at her hair.
When I pretend to cry I am very much aware that I can easily cross over the pretend line and start boo-hooing and pulling out my hair too. I’m feeling like her, but with grown up, pent in frustrations! But she is totally oblivious to the looney-bin-line-in-the-sand that I’m about to cross. Her screams come out in even higher pitch shrills! Her running feet takes her in circles and she yanks harder at her hair. It’s hilarious…if you’re not a sleep-deprived mother under time constraints.
I acquiesce and pick her up. As soon as I do she gives me an adorable smile, squeezes my neck with a sweet hug, lays her head on my shoulder and wimpers “Tank you”. I feel the love oozing from her little body and begin thinking about how mean I am to reject my young baby girl. I start to berate myself as a mother for putting my work
first last, at the end of the day. I should wait until they are all asleep like a decent mother. I should just wait until they are grown….and right in the middle of my guilty tirade she spins around in my arms around and starts banging on my computer keys like a happy, little monkey!
I’m going to change the saying to “If momma ain’t happy, so what! Just keep screaming until you get what makes YOU happy.”
Oh well, at least one of us is happy.
What about at your house? Do they really care if momma is happy?