For the last 18 years of doing this whole mom thing, I always found ways to destroy myself so that I could endlessly rule the world of never good enough. You’ve been there, right? I thought so.
For me, it was only one of two ways: I work and miss out on mandatory mom-stuff and watch my kids grow up in fast forward –OR– I stay home, pace the house and wind up crying in an empty bathtub by noon because I’m watching myself grow up in fast forward. It was a can’t-win cycle. What if I was so absent that I didn’t know my kids’ teachers names every year? (that has happened). What if I was so present that my kids –and their teachers– couldn’t stand me anymore? (ahem, that also has happened).
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And what if I just chilled out. What if I accepted that working (ALOT even) was the best medicine–for all of us? Once I realized this, and then forced myself to have the patience to try it long enough–I began to realize my little ducklings were following in my footsteps:
Jake got a second interview at Costco. On his own!
Em scored a regular babysitting gig.
Pascal has been earning the money to pay for her USA Gymnastics competition fees via busking with her accordion.
And everyone else is helping around the house–dishes, cooking, cleaning (sort of) and finally realizing that all of the things that have magically appeared in front of them, really costs money. And is the result of hard work.
The end product is less time spent together, sure. My days (and many nights) are consumed by me in front of my computer nailing deadlines and making sh*t happen. On the sidelines, this is a subconscious hip-check into feminism for all of them: Your mom works, is successful and has a meaningful life that isn’t all about you (painful to write/think/say that). Also: The time you have together is about quality not quantity. Get inspired by it.
Ring-riiing,
So Called Mom