It’s November 16th and I’ve got Christmas presents for my kids and my nieces and (soon-to-be nephew) wrapped and packed to go. I am so not that mom!
Tag: working moms
Although there is so much on my plate to fill my time, there is something missing altogether. Love? No. Fun? No. Sleep? Nope, I am even getting that (most weeks). It’s quiet – I have no quiet in my life.
When my daughter was about 4 years old, I started to notice Facebook posts of friends with kids around her age and the activities they were signed up for. Ballet, soccer, swimming – you name it. I started wondering if we should be signing her up for an activity too.
Tonight a neighbor walked by and casually said, “Well now what are you going to do when you have three?” Right. She said it. Stone-faced and with no follow up giggle. My reaction was natural: “Wait, did I ask you? Right, keep walking your dog.” (ok fine, originally the f-word was littered in there). But
It may seem like a small thing. Jumping into a crowded pool. But to me is was huge. All of me exposed. Cellulite and all. For everyone to see. Including the one person there who mattered: my daughter. She was the one that mattered. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this.
I have to be super stay-at-home-mom, not just regular great stay-at-home-mom. Just don’t make me stay at home…
My husband and I say we are proud of our kids all the time, every day. We end the night with the phrase every night. We thought it was important. I think it still is… But today I asked Lucy if she was proud of herself (after a great day of school and being particularly helpful throughout the afternoon). She said, “no.”
Coffee and wine. Coffee. Wine. That’s, like, our thing, right moms? “After being up with the kids all night there is just not enough coffee in the world.” “Is it too early for wine ‘cause I am ridiculously stressed right now.” I think I say these exact phrases several times a week.
I remember a year (could I have been 6 or 7, 10?) when my sisters and I didn’t get anything for my mother for Mother’s Day. No mug, no painting, no craft, no card. Worse, my Dad didn’t do anything either. On the way to a brunch buffet, the car was quiet, tense. The feeling
It can be exhausting to try and be the perfect mom and feel like it’s not ever really good enough. Feeling like your child deserves more of you. ❤️
