I found this great challenge online called the Half Drunk Challenge. I was excited to partake in this challenge, not only because after a year of writing I have needed to rid myself of the thin embryonic veil that I have enveloped myself in but also because I have something to get off of my chest. In fact, I was so excited about this opportunity to let go that I obsessively wrote three posts in the past few days which will be released in the next few posts but in the end, even though they were subjects that I would not normally write about, I felt they were still way too contrived.
So, here it is, the big, bad, ugly truth:
I am a witch. Not a wicked witch, at least not the story book quintessential wicked witch. I’m a dysfunctional witch who has yet to discover all of her powers and it is my mother who knows my witchiness more than all others, accepting me for what I am, a moody, intolerant and irrational child.
“Don’t be ridiculous”, she cries trying to understand my insanity. “Your working too hard, your too hard on yourself, having three boys is difficult, get some sleep, stop waking up at 5:00am” but having somebody who totally understands me and makes excuses for my poor behavior doesn’t make it any easier.
Basically, I am a witch without the benefits! No magical broom to fly off on when I need it the most, no ability to cast spells or make potions to right all of the wrongs, just your ordinary witch who can’t rise above the noise to call forth her inner good.
The good news is that when I am not being wickedly intolerant I am a very, very good and beautiful witch. Not like Glinda from the Wizard of OZ, although I do hail from the North. On that note promise to do me a favor, if you ever catch me in a frilly, tulled pink dress like Glinda’s please take me out back and shoot me. Anyway, I couldn’t be Glinda because I don’t have her sweet voice and sexy mole on my chin, or am I remembering her incorrectly?
Sooo, I’ve established that Glinda I am not, but when I am good, oh boy do I thrive on it to a point where people think I am nuts as I throw my love around to those who are capable of handling it.
If only I could hold onto the greater good all of the time and not let the bad reveal my scary self to my three little boys…hang on a second, they are the ones who call forth my badness with their inability to listen when we say it is bedtime because their fantastic innate clock tells them that 7:30pm is ding a ling, wake up and get crazy time.
They may cringe at the black pointy hat and wart on my chin that reveal that my deep and dark annoyances are getting the best of me but it is me and Wade who cringe at their loss of hearing. They shouldn’t have to accept and forgive me for all of my wickedness but I am all that they have for a mother and so they have no choice.
Call me witchy poo if you dare but even witches become witchy for a reason and if you wake up with your tongue tied in a knot, don’t go asking why because nobody will understand you.
We all have been witches. It happens. Sometimes it happens every day. Three kids is enough to make anyone don a black pointy hat and adhere a mole to her face. There are no solutions that your mother and everyone else haven’t told you. But that’s OK. You already have one; you answer the bad witchh with your good one. And your kids know that, I’m sure. Also, bedtime sucks. I mean, I look forward to it all day (so how shitty do I feel about that), and it’s a struggle. So it sucks.
Thanks for your entry!!!
Dear Witchy Woman,
I have an associate membership in the coven, given to me as an honorary gesture, you know, being a founder and all.
Keep writing – this is terrific!
Hugs
suZen
Oh boy do I hear you, witchy poo. What the hell with the complete inability for the boys to listen, right? I swear it increases exponentially with the addition of each new male in the house. With three little penises of our own roaming around, my home is in a constant state of destruction and my mind is often disoriented. It seems I can’t even fight my way out of it, though don’t you know I am always beckoning my inner witch. Yelling at and pleading with these boys. Please, Please!
I can’t imagine what it’s like to have three boys around all the time (one – in the form of a partner – seems excessive to me some days). I’m sure there are moments when it’s impossible not to “crack,” and I’m also sure that some day your boys will look back and laugh. Maybe it will take them having kids of their own to fully appreciate why you couldn’t always laugh off their boyish behavior.
Witches are people, too, and heck, who wouldn’t want magical powers, regardless of which witch you are? (smile)
Happy weekend!
More than anything, I am grateful for my imperfect parents. As a child, I dreamed of growing up in an Ozzy and Harriet family. Until I grew up and visited out-of-state relatives who portrayed the perfect life, the perfect marriage. And it was so boring. When I flew home, I bowed my head and gave thanks for my parents and their crazy-ass ways.
You know, one of my favorite sayings is that there is no light without dark (or something like that). So I actually like it that you say you’re a dysfunctional witch, sometimes bright, sometimes shadowy. It’s what makes you fascinating. And it’s something that I think resonates for all of us. So thanks!
Okay, if you are a witch, then I am definitely one with you as I already fit in with the too-many-boys group too
. I guess the more kids we have, the more things we have on our plate, and the older we get, the “witchier” we get.
From one Witchy Poo to another, I hear you loud and clear. Sometimes I wonder how I got to this place, being the wicked mother dishing out discipline 24/7. I had always imagined myself as the perfect sitcom mom. Sigh.
A witch. Ah. The title is somehow so endearing.
Does that make me crazy?
Witches of the world unite.
And you know what I would much rather be the wicked witch than Glenda the Good. Wearing pink from head to toe is so 3rd grade, not to mention it totally washes me out. Black on the other hand is very slimming and complements everyone.
I enjoy your posts, I just gave you an award, come by to see it.
Dear Tara,
Really? Me? An award? What a wonderful gift. I can’t wait to visit your site to see what it is all about.
I couldn’t agree with you more, it is often good to become one with our witchiness, plus I prefer for my good side to not be so obvious.
For my New Years Resolution last year, I told my sister that I was going to start lying to make my stories better and get rid of my kind facade lest anybody believe that was all good. No more mister nice guy!!
Hello Jessica,
No, it actually makes you sane! We are only human after all.
Hello Kristen, as long as we have a sense of humor along with our witchiness then we are all good plus it is fun for the kids to ride around on the broom with me.
Hi Blia,
I’m sorry but I can’t see you being a witch. I instinctively feel that you are too good for that and don’t have it in you but your welcome to join me and get some tips if you would like!!