Womb and Bored

Womb and Bored

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

I'm No Expert...



I'm no expert.  Like all moms, I fuck up.  

But what I lack in experience, I make up for in creativity.  I think the world of Facebook has us believing that if you don't have a baby attached to your nipple while having him swaddled in his co-sleeper covered in essential oils while you work, than you are doing it wrong.  It wasn't until I started posting about my way of doing motherhood, not the highlight reel, that I realized that other moms are  just like me.  Normal.


Not long ago, I was watching drama unfold on an an acquaintance of an acquaintance's Facebook page.  It was amazing drama.  The kind of drama you think only happens in a bus full of drag queens on the way to a wig sale, and it was unfolding right there in my feed.  However, my children were in my presence and they wanted to be entertained by me.  I had options.  I could put the phone down, after all, I am a mother and it is my job to parent.  I could screen shot for later enjoyment.  Or...I could fake an incredible bout of Irritable Bowel Syndrome so that I could lock myself in the bathroom and stay abreast of the drama-train derailing right before my very eyes. While there are some moms reading this hoping I took the high road.  Have no fear...I took the road less traveled, straight to the voting booth.  And as I sat there upon my throne, I wondered how many moms sat exactly where I was sitting...well, not exactly where I was sitting, but in their own homes in their own bathrooms faking gastric distress just to get a moment of peace and quiet.  It wasn't truly about Facebook or drama, it was about me taking time for me. 


If I were my past self (pre-motherhood) reading the story that my current self (mom of three) just wrote,  about the fabrication of Montezuma's Revenge just to be by myself, I'm sure I would be appalled.  I was such a good mom before I ever became a mom.  But, now, as my current self reads the story of my past self (past, as in last week), I am proud of myself.  Because I did what I needed to do to be a better mom.  After my imaginary butt-wipe and the flush of the clear water, I was ready to be mom.  And just as if I had done the real act, I felt relief.  


Moms...don't be afraid to fake a trip to the bathroom.  Or to get something in your eye.  Or to take a little extra time to switch over the laundry.  Sometimes that's what we need to be ready to tackle the most amazing, yet exhausting, job in the world.