If you’re looking for that piece that’s going to have an uplifting ending, this isn’t it.

This is the truth of the mom driving in her car after experiencing near chaos with her 2 year old in her dance class while tears well up in her eyes (the mom not the child) and she asks herself why and how.

Why do I subject myself to this every week? How did I get here? You know those horror stories you hear about mom’s that can’t walk into Target with their kid because it typically turns into utter meltdown? This pre-dance class for Elysse is kind of like that. So I guess I should actually be thankful that this behavior doesn’t happen at Target because I love Target, and well that would just suck if it did. All bets might just be off if it did happen there.

Instead it happens nearly every time that I go into this room filled with other little ones and their moms. But today, oh today was like my child on speed. Today was like a monkey on drugs. She kept wanting to climb on top of me during the beginning stretches, which of course happen on the floor while sitting on my ass so I guess say… Can you blame the child for thinking, oh yay I get to climb on top of my mom and try to get on her shoulders and yank and pull at her hair just like daddy let me do on him a couple days ago? Except that we’re in a pre-dance class trying to do pre-fun stretches, so no. No, that’s not what me sitting on my ass on the mat is the invitation for. So in the process she pretty much made a mess of my hair, fell off me a couple times, and was, well, uncontrollable. And yes, while all this is going on all the other little girls are following along and doing their stretches with their mommies.

Who caaaaaares, right? No! “Who cares” is for people that don’t subject themselves every fucken week to this with their child. “Who cares” is for the person/parent that just does it every once in awhile (or worse yet never) and stills says to me, who cares. I care!! That’s who cares, and so therefore dammit it matters.

I’ll spare you the details on the rest of the class but basically there were tears and walking behind the wall and storming away from mommy and well you get the picture.

And as I’m driving back home I think to myself, parenting is ugly! Yes, yes, we all know about the beautiful greater than life oh my gosh ah-mazing lovely moments, but in between there is some nasty shit going on!!

And so as I’m driving back to drop off Elysse at my mom’s house after that whole episode I’m thinking to myself…If you are the kind of person that loves disorganization, chaos, and unpredictability in your life then parenting is your cup of tea. I love the complete opposite. I love predictability, I thrive on order. I love to plan and know that for the most part A leads to B which leads to C. I probably should have been an accountant. So I’ll say it again, life with my 2 year old is like having surprise grenades thrown into my day at the most unexpected, unwanted, undesirable moments.

And it’s not like I can run away from those moments. I am their mother 24/7. Tired, cranky, emotional or hormonal, I have to just deal with it moment to moment. And when those grenades get thrown I question my ability and capacity to mother. I question God. I doubt my ability and capacity. They’re fleeting but they’re there. That’s the ugly truth about parenting. At least for this mom, anyway.

Tell me I’m not alone.