I Gave my Son a Creamsicle for Breakfast.
Yes, I did.
It was his 5th birthday. I used to think 10 was a big age…double digits, big kid status. Nope, it’s 5. 5 is a pretty big deal. 5 means Kindergarten. 5 means embarking on new journeys. 5 means being able to make your own peanut butter & jelly sandwiches. 5 means that you’re tall enough to ride the cool rides. 5 is pretty special.
Whenever one of the kids hits a milestone, I can’t help but think about myself as a parent. After 5 I found myself realizing that there’s a lot of “Mama Drama” out there, and I have unfortunately let myself become a part of it. As moms, we constantly strive to be the best parent out there, and it’s like pushing a rock up a hill. No one wants to yell at their kids in the store parking lot, to the chagrin of onlookers. But we do. No mom wants to go to a birthday party and be forced to leave with the biter/pincher/whiner. It happens. No mom wants to admit that they have to get in the shower to cry because they can’t handle their children. No mom wants to admit that there are days where they wonder what life would be like if they never had kids. No mom wants to admit that their kids drive them absolutely nuts. All of this happens.
Here’s my issue. We’re all trying to pretend to be Supermoms. The president of our families. We’re not supposed to screw up because if we screw up, even a little bit, the world will know that we failed. I freak out if my kids go to the store with cookie dribble on their shirts, not because I care, but because I care what other people are going to think about my parenting. The reality is that we’re all human. Mom is human too. In some (most?) cases Mom is juggling work and unruly children and trying to find her seat on the PTA. She may or may not have a boss that supports her endeavors. She may or may not have the cleanest house on the block. She may look like she’s got the whole package…cute kids, supportive husband, great everything. The reality of it is though that we’ve all felt alone, hurt & scared….or angry, frustrated resentful and bitter.
The sooner all of us moms realize that we really are all in this together and that it’s not a competition, we’ll be a lot better off. I think it will be a huge relief for all of us, like a collective Mommy sigh. Until we’re all on board and are willing to give up the illusions of continuity, clarity and knowing what the eff we’re doing, Creamsicles are only going to be for birthday breakfasts…or turned into a tasty beverage at TGIFriday’s (for the moms).
Running to Stand Still 