I’ve had one hell of a week. Highlights included two trips to the emergency room and one doctor’s visit that ended in an ambulance ride while Buttercup sucked on a lollipop the nurses gave her to distract from the chaos. No need to worry…I’m not the one who was racking up frequent flyer points with my insurance company. That honor goes to HC Palmquist. I was just the lucky bastard who got to play taxi. I’ll be back later with more on the newly discovered lack of gluten free options and the obviously full stash of high fructose corn syrup filled juices that seem to the norm for emergency room patients (at least, at the two hospitals we ended up at), but for now I’ve called in an old favorite to pinch hit for me while I go try out this new fangled sleep thing all the kids are talking about.
@aspiringmama: And? 1 work call, work research, 2 toddler tantrums, and a last nerve in a pear tree…
I wonder how she does it.
You know who I’m talking about. That mom. The one with the (work at home/boardroom/restaurant bartender/6 kids and no back up because Her Husband works all day and half the night to support them?)
How does she keep it all together? How does she not…lose…her…fucking…mind?
Her house might be a bit on the Martha Stewart Does Not Live Here list. Her meals are not always gourmet. And her kids might leave the house in yesterday’s clothing sometimes.
But she’s okay with it.
That’s the part that gets me.
She. Is. Ok. With. Imperfection.
And because she embraces the crazy, she has time for herself. And doesn’t tell the kids that Mommy Needs Another Minute as often as I do.
Forget the dishes in the sink. They can wait. Let’s play make believe.
Screw the laundry pile on the couch. She has a workout to squeeze in before her (deadline/husband gets home/kids lose interest in the movie she popped in the DVD player to buy herself some peace/roast needs to be pulled out of the oven.)
Who cares about the dust on the blinds. The dogs need a walk and She has been meaning to make time to call her Best Friend on Skype so She and The Kids can catch up with Those That Matter on the Other Side of the Universe.
That mom doesn’t eat, beathe, and live her To-Do List. It’s merely a suggestion for what she might want to try to accomplish today. Not the Do or Die that must be accomlished at all costs…including sleep and her sanity.
She remembers to set up her bills on auto-pay so She has one less thing to have to try to remember in between Mommy and I wanna…
She has learned the fine art of making it look like she understands the concept of that Balance thing. A few minutes on her (writing project/treadmill/call from The Boss) and it’s back to Quality Time with the Kids.
That mom doesn’t have to remind herself that there are roses to stop and smell because she also happens to have her own garden, blooming and beautiful.
And somehow, between dinners and bath times and reminders to brush teeth and arguments about which pair of princess pajamas must be worn tonight, between story time and sneaking out after they fall asleep and catching up on her favorite TV show, That Mom has managed to slip into her bed with a cozy book and a nice glass of wine (make mine a double, please). She falls asleep quickly, not worrying about how far behind herself she already is before even waking up the next morning and instead, savoring the moments she made for herself and her family that very day.
That Mom would think This Mom is crazy for thinking she has it all together. And she would be partially right. I know she doesn’t. I know her life is her own special brand of insanity. I know she wonders how Other Mothers aren’t wondering where they left their last nerve because she can’t find hers. And Other Mothers are looking at themselves, asking themselves why no one told them the truth about that If You Can Handle a Dog, You Can Handle a Kid bullshit because dogs are easier, assholes. (and houseplants? Are just made of awesome.)
All I want to know is, how did That Mom learn to love and live the crazy in order to enjoy the now? How many martinis, Serenity Prayers, and Hail Mary’s did it take for her to…
I won’t lie.
Every night, when I drag myself to bed 3 hours later than planned because Just One More Thing needed to be done, I wonder…
How does she do it?