Pleading Guilty and Paying Dues

Yesterday was supposed to be the day that I took down all the really old wallpaper in our bedroom. Doug and Elliott were going to go to Louisville and leave me to my projecting Sunday. But on Saturday night I hurt my shoulder playing with Elliott. So after they left and I attempted a mere 15 minutes of stripping trying only to use my left arm, I gave up. The downside: our bed is in the middle of our bedroom, and our walls are in various stages of wallpaper removal. The upside: I had a whole rainy Sunday afternoon to myself to lie around and watch HGTV and eat brownies. Would you freaking believe that I couldn't enjoy it? And would you like to know why? GUILT. I kept looking around thinking, "I should do some dishes/laundry/clean the litterbox/pick up the house/etc. etc. etc...I should not waste this whole afternoon after I've sent away my child (MOMMY GUILT) lying around doing nothing." And then I got mad. Would someone please tell me when I was unknowingly inducted into the Responsible Adults Club? I don't remember signing up. I mean, sure, I've been married for 8 years and my child is nearly 3, but that means nothing in my world. Ask anyone who knows me. See every reference in this 2-month old blog about my domestic skills or lack thereof. And then, to top it all off, I cooked supper last night. Cooking supper on Sunday nights is a direct violation of the rules my mother taught me.

Isn't it enough that I have the world's worst case of Mommy Guilt? Why do I now have to pay dues to the Responsible Adults Club to avoid feeling guilty about a Sunday on the couch? I mean, I am Catholic, but my guilt gene is out of control. Dr. Holly, wanna try an experimental surgery?