Do it yourself

I know I will one day regret saying this, but some days I really hate the name "Mom". It usually happens in the morning when both of my children need to be tended to. Did you know that as a child gets older, they lose the ability to do things? They can't bend over. They can't reach up. They can't look beyond the area in front of their nose. Well, that's how it is in my house. I know it's my fault (well, not all mine, but I have to take the blame). I've got a little control issue and I'm one of those types that find it easier to do things myself than let others do them. So, maybe I did that to my kids a little bit. But, I'm positive I taught them how to dress themselves. I was there when they learned how to put toothpaste on the toothbrush and stick it in their mouths. I know for sure they are able to find clothing and put it on their bodies. Yes, they sometimes forget to change their underwear or put the dirty stuff in the hamper or brush the knots out of their hair. But, for the most part, they can perform these daily functions. This morning, I thought I would lose my mind. I was helping the older one get ready for crazy hair day at school. I have to watch her cross the street and wait for the school bus. I have to make sure her water bottle is in her backpack. So, the entire time I'm helping her, here comes the short one. Mom, can you do my hair? Mom, can you help me get the Cinderella drawing desk? Mom, can I have a piece of paper? Mom, can I have a pen? Mom, I'm thirsty. Mom, can I watch TV? Mom, I have to go to the bathroom. Mom, I want to get dressed. Mom, where is my whistle? Mom, can I have another piece of paper? You get the idea. I don't want to be one of those mothers that do everything for their children. I still watch my mother-in-law pick up clothes from the floor and do laundry for her grown children. I don't know if I could be that lady. And, I don't mind doing some things for them, but really. My kids can usually tell when I've gotten to the point of frustration. They say "I know, you're not an octopus." But, they don't care that I don't have eight arms. They just want the two I have to be working for them. I guess that's okay for now. The frustration is worth it. As long as they realize I do things for them because I love them and not because the world owes them a big favor. Wouldn't want them to feel entitled and think I'm the maid. I not a maid. I am an octopus.