Are YOU an ogre?

My life is exciting. It really is. There are days when I have to convince myself of that fact, but for the most part, it is.

I watched a news program this morning that talked about how a happy wife is very sexy. Husbands don't want to come home and hear about how awful their wife's day was. Men feel that their wife is an extension of them in some form, so when the wife is unhappy, it must be their fault. (On an unconscious level, of course.)

I don't doubt that this theory is true. I can't count the times my hubby has said that he just wants me to be happy.

So, I have made an effort to remember how happy I am--sometimes this takes a vast amount of effort--so that I can enjoy my life.

I really do have a great life. So why then, am I so ornery? Why do I look forward to seeing my kids after school, only to argue and bicker with them all afternoon. How can I say I adore them, yet I can't wait for them to go to bed?

I really took this to heart this week as it has been constantly on my mind. My kids don't know this, but I have been pretending that they aren't my kids, but friends of mine. I ask myself, "if I were with a girlfriend, how would I respond to whatever my kids are doing or saying?" I wanted to see if I would say or do something different than normal.

As I have done his, I have found that with my children, I am impatient, ornery, negative and irritable. I have had to face the truth because I don't want my kids growing up saying I was no fun at all.

Now this is not to say that I let them get away with murder, or get away with anything for that matter. It just means I'm trying to be nicer. Trying to make my first reaction to whatever they do or say a little more pleasant.

I remind myself of my mother. She was great in her own way, but she was ornery. A lot. At least that I remember. She battled depression, she battled rebellious teenagers, and my family didn't have much money during that time. She hated her body, hated to cook and most often tried to escape through books and alone time.

Even though she did a lot right, like make us take piano, taught us to clean, taught us to be independent and made us close, she seemed unhappy most of the time. I have found myself falling into this rut. I find myself escaping into books, or the bathtub or my writing when I could be enjoying my kids company. They really are fun kids who would love a mom to be fun back once in a while.

To sum up. I have the bad habit of being an ogre 90% of the time. It's only a habit. Habits can be changed. I'm just grateful I have been given this little vision into myself before it's too late.