Mommy Will Be Right There (As Soon As She's Done Falling Apart)

I don’t like to brag, but I am a damn good mother. I was sold into this position nearly 14 years ago, and, as with any job I have ever had, I took on the role with fervor. 

 

With my first, I was up on all the latest “Mommy Help” books; I read them cover to cover, pouring over all their words of wisdom and advice. At any given time, I was juggling two mommy and me groups, another play group with close friends along with Gymboree and kiddie music classes. There was always color on a dinner plate and a structured evening ritual which included books and lovely lullaby CDs. Ah, thinking back, I was truly at the top of my game.

 

My second followed about 2 ½ years later. Tiny and feisty, she kept me on my toes and made me realize how easy I had it with my firstborn (we always get one of these, don’t we?). She was shy and guarded and clung to me like scotch tape.  That made it easier for me to justify taking it down a notch on playgroup commitments since even the coolest goop and pink play dough station couldn’t shake her from my pant leg. Why spend the money? After all, she had ready-made entertainment with an older sibling standing by. I also began to work part time so the opportunities were limited. We did lots of crafts during this stage, most of which were borrowed from Family Fun magazines and lived in a great cul-de-sac with lots of little munchkins for my kids to hang out with. All in all, I still felt worthy donning my #1 mommy medal.

 

Seven years later, after a divorce and a new marriage, my third was born and I must admit I was a little out of practice. A four year span of not wiping butts is actually a long time. Remembering how to swaddle, burp, at what age to start veggies- all a bit foggy initially. My friends were of no use either. They had hung up their baby bags years before and seemed to have the same mental lapse as me. What was I to do but pull out the books? “What to Expect” when you already knew but temporarily forgot was a lot less scary as a reference guide (I think that book sent me to the pediatrician more times than I can count with my first!).   All was right again, except for the deficiency of time. Now, working full-time, extracurricular activities focused upon baby were impossible. During the past four years, I have considered her time spent on football and lacrosse fields as well as attending cheerleading practices an adequate justification and sound socializers for her development. 

 

So now that you got the background details, I can explain why I have titled this blog as such. Raising kids is hard work (insert “No, Duh!”). I don’t know if it is the three kid factor, the juggling of work and home, the fact that I am nearing perimenopause, the sibling bickering, the economy, the new tiny wrinkle near the left side of my mouth, the non-existent tropical vacations, the fact that my four year old refuses to wear anything coordinating or brush her hair each morning or that I am just due for a pity party- life can get to a place where it feels overwhelming and you just want to fall apart. 

 

Our unattached female counterparts can indulge themselves at their whim, but us moms, we pretty much have to schedule an appointment for it. Place it in the Blackberry for perhaps 15 minutes right after assisting with homework and before schlepping the kids to various practices.  Cry into a pillow for 5 then 10 to clean up the mascara, pat the lids with some powder, Visine the eyes and hope for minimal puffiness so when you reappear, you are not met with any questions or curiosity. It can be tricky, but it is just what we need sometimes to keep the engine rolling. As women, we should indulge when necessary, feeling no remorse or thoughts of inadequacy. As mothers, we must understand that we are Superwomen, but our kids, as much as we love them, can often be our kryptonite. 

 

In spite of these scheduled (and often sporadic) meltdowns, I feel confident that I am doing the best that I can and, as long as I don’t maim or throttle anyone in the process, I am gonna hold onto that mommy medal indefinitely.