This post isn’t funny. It’s actually quite sad.

17 Oct

This was going to be my post today.

Title: Everyday I’m shuffling <weird disco song>

Get up, do yoga (hit snooze eight times) make coffee, shower, make lunches, attempt to look presentable (actually put on mascara and under-eye cover up) for a business meeting that I am ill-prepared for. Get kids up, get them dressed, fed, watered, happy. Feed dog. Who’s idea was it to get a one-hundred pound dog anyway? “I want to watch Sponge Bob!” Guess I won’t blow dry my hair today (ever).

Attempt to pick up the house that has a perpetual laundry monster growing in every corner, throw some dishes in the dishwasher, why can’t I ever find the covers to sippy cups? Where the hell do they go? Seriously? Throw a load of feety pajamas in because Lord knows I don’t need to wear a clean bra. Ever. Oh shit, it’s show-and-tell day.   

Race for the train while putting on my coat after I yell forty-two commands at my baby sitter, who I’m fairly certain hates me, yet I still trust her with my children. Text baby-sitter twelve more instructions from the train and worry that I have forgotten something. Receive several cryptic millennial style responses from baby-sitter that I need to get clarification on. For example does FU mean what I think it means? Weird. Send several work emails from said train and it’s nary nine in the fucking morning. Shit, I forgot my Lean Cuisine. Now I’ll have to spend thirteen bucks on a sucky salad.

My life is a finely tuned machine. One wrench in the mix and it’s all over. A sick child and I worry that I’ll lose 5% from the bonus pool at year-end and won’t be able to feed my kids. A missed preschool event because they’re held midday and I am a terrible, disengaged mom who really needs to get her priorities straight. Where is this balance that they speak of? And who the hell are they anyway? Are they really us?

I think sometimes we put all of this pressure on ourselves and on each other. Why do we do this to ourselves? WHY? I resolve to care less about the dog hair in every crevice of the house and to care more about being happy in the moment.

That was it. As of yesterday afternoon. It was half done. Then I read this article in the NY Times (okay, that’s a lie. I read it on my friend’s Facebook page because I don’t read the NY Times. But I guess I should.)

Read it. It will make you care less about certain things.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/16/opinion/sunday/notes-from-a-dragon-mom.html

I didn’t sleep after I read it, cried a few times. Then punched myself in the face for worrying about stupid, meaningless things.

This woman won’t get to see her child grow up, fall down, fall in love, get his heart broken, win awards, lose games, learn to drive, learn to cope…

And we dare worry about what others think of us, we judge others (and really ourselves) if we don’t do all organic food, send our kids to Montessori school, every fucking activity there is known to man, if we’re working moms, if we’re stay at home moms, when really, we’re lucky to be moms at all. Right now.

So here is the new ending to this post….I will hug, hold and savor my happy, unscathed children. Judge others less, judge self less. They’re healthy. They’re here. Now. And that’s all that really matters. And I’ll let them have a pillow fight with my decorative, useless pillows if I want to. Because they’re children. So I’ll let them be.

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2 Responses to “This post isn’t funny. It’s actually quite sad.”

  1. julie October 26, 2011 at 1:30 pm #

    That article you linked to was wonderful. In fact your whole post resonated so much with me, including my life’s theme song ‘everyday i’m shufflin’ except I change it to ‘everyday i’m hustlin’ which is only so painfully true. I have a high school junior and am worried about grades and SAT scores and college admissions on a near-daily basis. And then I read about Ronan, and his mom, and I realize I need to let my son’s life be his life.

  2. Natasha January 19, 2012 at 5:36 am #

    I laughed at your brilliant writing and then I cried at the article. I will not be so angry at my kids tomorrow.

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