I woke up this morning and all I wanted to do to was eat chocolate, curl up into a ball and cry or scream profanities. But I can’t do that. I have a four year old who doesn’t have school today and a two year old who… is a two year old. It’s also 6AM and my day is just starting.
Hello, third child. Hello, horrible life sucking third child, who is bent on taking all of my patience, my reason and my energy all of today and maybe into tomorrow.
It isn’t fair, is it? You take an already physically tired, mentally exhausted, confused, nervous, twitching, drowning on dry land, by all accounts normal parent and then add the equivalent of an acme anvil to their already dwindling energy and fragile mental state.
I’m going to be honest, there have been times I’ve asked the hormone gods, (I can’t even begin to imagine what they would look like, I would assume a fair share of acne would be involved), why me?
There’s so much weight placed on modern mothers, you would think that our bodies would evolve like coal into diamonds under all of that pressure. But no, we’re still stuck with this very old school problem of being a human female.
I have two children. I’m not planning on anymore. My stupid body is like acts like an old lonely heart’s club society member every month. She sets the table in the dining room for two with the best china, lights the dinner candles, pours the wine and waits with a big smile on her face for her guest to arrive. There’s only one problem, Ms. Lonely Heart! You didn’t send out any damn invitations or tell a soul that you were expecting anyone for dinner. No one’s coming! Give it up!
And so like any respectable lonely hearts club member who’s been “stood up”, she takes all of her good china, the table cloth, the candle, the wine and the entire lonely dinner she made and throws it out the door, or in this case, my vagina. But you know what, damned if she doesn’t buy a new china set off QVC, whittle a new dining room table and have the entire thing all set up again next month, just waiting and hoping for her suitor to come along… after not having sent out a single invitation.
I’m sorry body, but you’re just pathetic and a little nuts.
So what happens on mornings where I wake up and just want to eat all of the things and break every window in my house?
If I’m smart, I grab a few Midol and try to chloroform Ms. Lonely Hearts. But most of the time, I don’t have any or I don’t have the presence of mind to take it. So, my children might get snapped at a little more and my husband might get a lengthy diatribe about how “I’m sick of washing the same dishes and picking up the same clothes and toys!” I’ll use big hand gestures for about thirty minutes and do a lot of passive aggressive breakfast making. (Who knew making coffee could be so loud?) And then my kids might get to watch a little more television, while I take a slightly longer shower, so I can collect what’s left of my psyche and we start the day.
We mothers are incredible people. Even with the albatross of modern parenting firmly planted and swinging around our necks, we can still solider on with the anvil of natural law also, attached to our backs.
Give yourself more credit, oh modern mother, by all intense and purposes you truly are a real life super hero.