If there’s anyone left out there who is under the mistaken impression that I am super-mom, a saint, or filled with a limitless capacity for caring, empathy, patience, or motherly perfection, I am officially declaring today that I Am None of Those Things. Not only am I declaring it (envision Michael Scott), but I have proof.
- I forget things. The hairdresser called at 3:10 today, wanting to know if *she* had written the day down wrong. Um, no, I’m just a slacker and forgot that Sarah Kate had a 3:00 appointment. We’ll be there in five.
- I dress like a slob. My house isn’t a mess, mostly because I can’t stand clutter (“messy house, messy mind!”), but I am. As I type this, I have my hair pulled back, am not wearing any makeup, and am clothed in a running skirt and a race shirt from 2007 (none of which would matter if I was at home, but I’m not – I’m out in public at swim practice – sorry, Mom!)
- I’m lazy. Not worthless-sack-of-crap lazy, just regular lazy. There are days that I waste an obscene amount of time online. I don’t do yard work. Ever. On a good week, I’ll cook four times. Today was laundry day but the only laundry I did was fold the diapers because…I just didn’t feel like laundry today. I’ll do it tomorrow.
- I swear. Yes, I know it’s not setting a good example for my precious angels. It started a long time ago when I got laughs for using profanity (I still don’t know why it amuses people) and it became a habit.
- I don’t really like kids that much. It’s true. I like MY kids, (and a few others) but I’ll never be the mom every kid on the block loves, because I’m not fun and most children (other than my own) are so impossible for me to connect with that they might as well be aliens speaking a foreign dialect.
- I don’t do school field trips, even though I’m a SAHM. I know lots of moms LOVE field trips and will even take off work to attend. I avoid them like the plague. I will never, ever, ever volunteer to be room mom. Although if begged I would almost certainly do it as I find it hard to say “no” to pleas of desperation.
- I gave the baby iced chai a few weeks ago. I was drinking it, he was curious, so I shared. He loved it (who doesn’t?) He has also tried Dr. Pepper and chocolate cupcake frosting.
- I have been known, on occasion, to feed my daughter popcorn for dinner. She likes it, I like it, it’s easy to make and the Stir Crazy is easy to clean up. Everyone wins. (I draw the line at microwave popcorn, however – I do have standards).
- My kids don’t get baths every night. If Sarah Kate has been in the pool that day, I usually call it good. She doesn’t have green hair yet so I’m not worried.
- A couple of weeks ago, I paid Sarah Kate her allowance using money she had leftover from Christmas and birthday last year. Wouldn’t be a big deal if I had paid her back later, but I haven’t. The envelope with the cash was sitting on my desk for ten months, so I’m pretty sure she won’t miss it.
I’ve always been pretty picky about, well, everything, so the fact that this list exists (and it’s not exhaustive by any means!) is a pretty big deal. The fact that I would be willing to admit all of these things to the world is HUGE. If I have learned nothing else, though, in the past (almost) eight years, it’s that some things that seem important just don’t matter all that much. I don’t put iced chai in Nathan’s bottle, so his health probably isn’t negatively impacted. The laundry will be done eventually. Sarah Kate told me I was cute in all of my un-primped glory this afternoon. My kids are happy, healthy, and know they are loved, so I think that makes me good enough.