A Post About How I Kind Of Fail As A Mother, But Don't Worry, I'm Not Emo

So, I guess I had some people worried with my last post. Sorry. I guess I'm depressed.

BUT ... I'm feeling a tad better today, so today's post, albeit late, will be a happy, hilariously and joyously fun post that will have your ribs sore from all the laughter that will no doubt emanate from your gut. Oh yes.

The only problem is, I have Dee home with me today and he doesn't.stop.talking, which I really don't mind, and actually quite love, except when I'M TRYING TO WRITE A F**KING BLOG POST. Ahem. Sorry about that. Obviously, I am still harboring a little anger and resentment. Or whatever.

Okay, Dee's upstairs taking apart Mr. Handsome's computer, so I'm good to go.

Why is Dee home, you ask? Well, it goes something like this. Back in January, Dee brought home one of his millions of little pieces of paper from school for me to look at. Before I go any further, I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the best at keeping track of important pieces of paper. Hard to believe, I know. But it's true. I am really good at keeping dates to remember and crap like that in my head, though, so it all evens out in the end. Usually.

This little piece of paper actually had a time deadline on it, and was all about taking the kids at the school skiing for the day up in the mountains not far from home. It's an annual shindig Dee's school does, which is awesome and all cool and all that, and Dee said he really wanted to go, so Mr. Handsome and I discussed it for about five seconds minutes and decided that, yes, he could go, despite not having a nanosecond of experience with alpine skiing. What the hell. We're good parents that way. What's a little concussion or broken neck, I always say.

So, I kept the piece of paper (it was actually about 10 pieces of paper all stapled together neatly), and was  meaning to fill it out and have Dee bring it back to school, but I kind of forgot one detail. As it goes, it happened to be one of the most important details: the deadline to return the forms.

The other day, I look at the forms, and ask Dee if he's still interested in skiing, because hey! I still had the forms here, and what do you know? the ski day was coming upon us. Yes, Dee said, I really really want to go. So I filled everything out, gave it to him, and sent him on his merry way to school.

Dee came home that afternoon, handed the forms and the cheque back to me, saying, "The deadline was Feb. 9. I can't go."

Oh.My.God.

I felt like crying. The guilt from all mothers from around the world entered my soul at that point, and I crumbled into a little dust heap on the floor, never to raise my ugly head again with motherly pride. It was just awful.

And Dee came up to me and said, "It's okay, Mommy. Don't feel bad. It's really not that big a deal. Really. I don't really care."

But I know he did care. And I also know that one day, 20 years from now, he's going to bring this up at his therapist's appointment, and all fingers will point to this moment as the reason why he ended up a hobo in drag selling carnations from his stolen shopping cart.

Wow, that was an ultra-long and boring explanation as to why my son was home with me. Hmmm. The digression has actually turned into a post, which just blows me away, because I didn't think I was actually all that creative and handy like that.

So, Dee is home with me today, and he said he just wants to hang out around the house and chill. Just for that, I said, I'm making him shovel the driveway, clean my his room, make dinner, and curl my hair. That'll show him to trust his momma next time.

P.S. I wanted to thank everyone who called me, emailed me, and commented on my last post. I feel awful that I worried people. I'm really okay. I'm in a funk, was lower in the black hole than usual that day, and just had to vent, I guess. I'm actually feeling better today, the proverbial sun is out again (peeking over the clouds), and life is looking a little better again. Just having the reassurance that I have people around me makes all the difference. I feel awful that I worried everyone. I'll try not to do that again.

Depression is a funny thing, really. Because, although I  know in my heart that I am not alone, I still very much feel that way when I get very low. It's almost like I enter a world where everything is in total darkness, and the walls are solid, and nothing and no one can penetrate them, so that I not only feel all alone, but I AM alone. It's not a rational, logical thing. It's not even something I understand as I go through it. I have no control over it, and have to simply allow the feelings to overwhelm me, take control, and overtake my every breath, until it slowly starts to subside again and allow me to once again take my breaths freely and willingly, permitting me to open my eyes once again and see through what were once solid walls and is now just a thick haze, to once again see and feel my family and my friends, all holding hands around me, keeping me safe and loved.

Thank you all for caring.

P.P.S. I guess this post wasn't all that funny after all. Goddammit.