Thursday, August 13, 2009


I may be in the midst of an existential crisis. Or a panic attack. Or, I may just be freaking out a little. Either way, something is going on with a) my tummy, b) my blood pressure and c) my tear ducts (as in, they are leaking frequently this evening).

I start work on Monday. At a job. Outside of the house. With adults. Who expect me to LEARN STUFF. And then answer questions for other adults in a clear and concise manner. WTF? Have they met me? OK. The job outside the house I can do. Probably. At least, I won't get fired in the first month or so. That's a goal, right?

But then there is my OTHER job. My ACTUAL full-time, always-on-my-mind, on the clock even when I am sleeping job. You know the one: Mom-Wife-Maid-Cook-SupplierOfAllThingsAnyoneNeedsEVER. That one. THAT is the one I am freaking out over.

My husband comes home every night and, after a dinner I have, 90% of the time, made, promptly begins dozing on the couch. I mean complete with snoring. How many, by show of hands, believe that I will be able to get away with this?

Right. That's what I thought.

Because if I come home and - after a meal has magically appeared on the table - I start snoring on the couch, several things will happen. Well, several things will actually NOT happen:

1. Jack will not be bathed.
2. Laundry will not get done.
3. Floors will not get vacuumed.
4. Sheets will not get changed.
5. Dishes may or may not get done.
6. All potty-training and discipline ceases to exist.
7. Stories will not be read.
8. Songs will not be sung.
9. Middle of the night calls for Mommy will not be answered.
10. Groceries will not be purchased.

These are just the things I can think of while continuously typing. As you can see, my mind is reeling a bit.

I understand - in my addled brain, that women work every day all over the world and you know what? Their kids are fed and bathed and their homes do not fall down around them. Many of these heroic women are single mothers. I swear to you right now I do NOT undersand - just plain do not comprehend how these women do it. Hats off to you, ladies.

But this is new. And I am scared.


Lauren said...

Hi There,

First of all--good luck with the new job! Second, sorry for writing to you on your comments section, but I could not find your email anywhere on your blog. I first came across your blog through the Mom blogs site, and I wanted to see you if you would be interested in participating in a program Mom Central is doing with Disney On Ice in the Cincinnati/Dayton area. Basically, it involves complimentary tickets and a meet and greet event on opening night (9/17) in exchange for helping us spread the word about the show and a coupon code Disney has created for us. Please email me back if you're interested at Thanks so much!



naomic3 said...

Okay, speaking as your bestest single-mom ex-roommate from college, you know that list? Uh, go ahead and cross off numbers one through five. Seriously. They don't matter. Number 6 will happen because, my god, that's what preschool is for. And THEY do it without loss of temper or self-confidence. It's a win-win.

Seven, eight and nine will be the ones that you find you actually DO, because those are the things you enjoy the most. They are fun. Number 10 is the one I'll do for you because I love, love, LOVE grocery shopping. The frozen food aisle is like frickin' HEROIN for me.

There's no such thing as the perfect supermom. Well, other than Erin and Mandie of course. But why should there be? The best mom you can be is a happy and balanced one: one that has grownup stimulation, gets to pick out the stories and songs, sniffs the kid and says "you're old enough to wash yourself mostly" and then flops onto the couch for the well-deserved footrub from the snoring spouse, letting go of all the sisyphean tasks that, honestly, WILL wait until you get around to them. Or someone else does. Or finally, happily fall off your guilt list once and for all.