Measure of a Mom

I often think about how much I suck at being a Supermom. My transition from a career-mom to a stay-at-home-mom has been anything but triumphant. In these few short months I’ve been at home, I have never been more exhausted, beaten-up, drained, and just plain ugly. Although my tenure as a SAHM is very temporary (only 2 more months), I have really learned to appreciate all the mothers and fathers out there who choose this as their permanent occupation. It has not been easy. There are many days when my husband walks through the door after a long day and all he can say is, “Are you wearing a bra?” Before you get all hot and bothered, this is not a sexy question. This is a Jesus-Christ-You-Couldn’t-Even-Put-On-A-Bra-Today kind of question. And the answer is, no. I could not put on a bra. Or brush my teeth. I’m not sure if I showered today. Or yesterday. Shaved legs? Forget about it. My matchy-matchy pink pajamas? Yep, still wearing them at 5:00pm.

So, the question is, does this make me a bad mom? Should I be up at the ass-crack of dawn, exercised, showered, and knitting a potholder before my wee-one has even opened his eyes? Should the house be spotless and the dog groomed, all while my toddler politely recites Shakespeare. Should I have six-pack abs, perky boobs, and shaved pits as I organize a food-drive for homeless orphans? Should I be cooking solely organic? Wait, should I be cooking? Oh, God.

If your answer to any of these questions is ‘yes,’ I will politely suggest you kiss my haggard ass. I have constructed my own “Measure of a Mom.” I hope the following list will help SAH moms and dads to accurately measure their success as a parent. Simply calculate the answers to the questions to evaluate your victory over the day.

Measure of a Mom (or Dad)

-Did you consider taking a shower today or yesterday?

-Did you trip over/stub your toe/step on less than 9 toys today?

-Do less than half of the rooms in the house have crayon on the wall?

-Did the dog only escape from the backyard twice today?

-Are you the only member of the household that sustained any injury today?

-Were you able to successfully stop your nosebleed?

-Did you employ self-defense skills during toddler tantrums?

-Was your child napping for at least 12 minutes today?

-Did less than 3 neighbors see you in your PJs while checking the mail?

-Did you make it through the day without succumbing to your craving for drugs, alcohol, or cookies?

-Did anyone run with scissors (including you)?

-Was the TV on for less than 12 hours?

-Did you read to your child today (even if it was the back of the soap dispenser in the bathroom while you were going pee)?

-Was “Oh shit!” uttered less than 57 times?

-Is there poop on anything or anyone? If so, did the dog lick it up?

-Is the household headcount the same at the beginning AND end of the day?

This list is not mutually exclusive. Good luck!

Battered and Beaten

Toddlers-what a special little bunch. So fun and active…so excited about life…so damn bipolar it makes me want to beat myself with a blunt object. They are moodier than a pregnant broad watching a Victoria’s Secret commercial. One minute my little angel is giving hugs and kisses while gently rubbing my hair, and the next minute I’m getting coldcocked by his mini right hook.  My poor face has taken a beating for months! Most of the time there is a fair warning- he purses his lips and angles his eyebrows downward with a sweet yet psychotic gleam in his eye. I must say I’ve become an expert at the bob-and-weave. But other times he blindsides me with a Thomas the Tank Engine to the side of my dome. I have talked to other parents about toddler aggression, and apparently it is a “boy thing.” What a crock! Are you telling me my sweet little boy is genetically wired to beat the shit out of me? The pain, suffering, and stretching my body went through to create a miniature menace is quite ironic.

But the abuse is not exclusively physical. I take quite an emotional beating from this little guy, too. Let me set the scene…I have just finished taking a 38 second shower (because that’s all the time I can afford to leave my child alone, and even that is too much time). As I open the shower door and reach for my towel, two big, brown, batting eyes greet me. I open my mouth to say ‘hello’ to him, but he quickly cuts me off and screams “Eeeeewwwwwwwwww!” while pointing and laughing at my naked body.  I know, right?! What an ass. Does he not understand how hard it is to find time to workout? Did he not see the new NutriBullet on the counter?! I’ve been making juice! I just signed up for a ½ marathon, for God’s sake! Where’s the credit for that? But, he just pointed, laughed, and then changed the subject to choo-choos, as if I would easily transition to a new topic after being humiliated in my own bathroom.  Too bad your choo-choos can’t pay my therapy bill. Sometimes we will be snuggling on the couch together and he will lift up my shirt and squeeze my gut while laughing. I GET IT. I need to lay off the cookies. Thanks for the constant reminder, Jillian friggin Michaels. 

I was so happy when my little monkey started talking. To hear him say “Love you” is priceless. That is until the day you say, “Love you” to him and he responds with, “NO!” 

Really?...No? Like you have any idea how much I love you, you sassy little thing. You will tell me you love me -and you will like it!

It seems like only yesterday I was holding my sweet, SILENT, stationary little boy. Now I have an unpredictable toddler in my midst. If you are out there suffering in silence, just know that you are not alone. I would really like to tell you that the abuse will soon cease, but sister, that ain’t gonna happen. Bear down and prepare to be lovingly abused for the next several years.  And remember to bob-and-weave.

She's Baaack!

It has been 3 long months since I've blogged. My excuse?

Relocating to a new city + The Holidays = No time to blog!

But it did give me lots of new material! So, here's to a fabulous 2013 and lots of funny blog posts!

Thanks for following!!