I am going to spare you the running list of tasks that I performed or the lengths that I went to in order to achieve Super Mom status, but just know that I honestly did it all. Everything. I was a machine, literally. There was no time to be human. I was killing myself going through the motions, taking care of everyone and everything. And, sometimes, it felt awesome. I was unstoppable. I equated controlling the chaos with greatness. Therefore, I was a great mom.
I’m at work and my phone vibrates. I anxiously look at the caller ID information displayed. Crap. My fears are confirmed; the incoming call is from one of my sons’ schools. “Hello?” I manage to get out as worst-case scenarios run through my mind…
A list of things I’m totally digging at the moment and have to share with you!
I think the reason the stay at home mom label bothers me has nothing to do with staying at home or being a mom. It’s just an outdated term, and frankly, “working mom” is too. Who refers to “working dads” anyway? We are all working, always. And those of us who are parents are all parenting, always.
In order to keep myself awake I’ve been compiling list of things “to do” when no one else in the world seems awake. Simply getting up and turning on the light does not work anymore (plus who would want to wake up my darling husband).
I am definitely one of those working mothers who lives on coffee and wine. You know the ones I mean. The ones who post coffee memes on their Facebook. The ones who use the emoji of a wine glass after any stressful statement they may text or post on social media. The ones who can’t seem to manage their busy lives without a cup of coffee in their hand and glass of wine to wind down at night. That is me. Well, it was me.
In my very minimal downtime this week I watched the new episode of This is Us. It should probably be part of doctor’s orders to give it a few weeks before you embark on that show, but I went for it anyways.
The lives of today’s working moms are frenetic at best. Sometimes just saying no might help save our sanity…and our Pyrex.
Fall is more challenging than Summer. This is just a truth. Summer is the time for eating tomatoes from the garden with balsamic vinegar and calling it dinner. For staying up a little late and chasing fireflies in the yard. Fall is none of these things. None. Of. Them.
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!