When the gorgeous purple streak faded from my hair and my feet looked like they belonged to a hobbit, I brushed it off. "It's only a streak." "It's just a pedicure."
When I started cancelling appointments for myself but keeping the ones for my children, I explained it away. "The kids need haircuts. I can throw my hair up in a ponytail." "The kids have to go to the dentist. My teeth are fine."
When the slow decline of my hygiene become undeniable, I hung on for dear life. "He had soccer, I didn't have time to shower." "He had karate, I didn't have time to shower." "The house was a mess, I didn't have time to shower." Geez, woman! Clean yourself!
Okay, so I've had the occasional martyr moment, not getting a haircut for
But, after two weeks of being sick, and losing my voice completely, I still hadn't seen a doctor. I decided I should go and, three days later, when it was convenient for everyone else (my husband took the kids out), I went.
"How long have you had a sore throat?" the doctor asked.
"Two weeks," I squeaked.
So my "cold" turned out to be a double ear infection, bronchitis, and sinus infection.
"You shouldn't have waited," he said.
"I have kids..."
Noooooo!
I said it. Can't take it back. I can yell (when I get my voice back) that I am NOT a martyr mom but really all I can say after what happened last week is:
"HELL, YEAH I AM!"
I'm a full-on Martyr Mom.
How about you? Are you a martyr mom?
(Or dad...?)
(Or dad...?)
