A friend wrote a post on balance that got me thinking. Not about balance since the best terms I’m on with balance is a quick nod as I race by to find the other extreme. But it did get me thinking about average.
Why do I enjoy setting myself up for failure? Why must I be a GREAT mom? The mom who pureed organic vegetables and made her own baby food. The mom who uses cloth diapers. Who breastfed when she hated it. Now, I didn’t do these things to MAKE A POINT. I did them because of the environment and I’m naturally cheap and I thought it was the right thing to do by my children. But as it turns out, they DID make a point. And once I realized that I started KEEPING UP. With Mama Jones.
Organic clothing. Polite children. GIFTED CHILDREN. I’m the MOST tired. The MOST loved. The LEAST appreciated.
But I’m not. Yes, my son slept like crap for his first two and a half years. Which either makes me the WORST mom. (You should’ve used all these brilliant baby books that worked for MY CHILDREN. You should’ve co-slept, You should’ve Ferberized. You should’ve NOT HAD BAD SLEEPING GENES.) Or the MOST TIRED mom. But, honestly, the second year of E’s sleep issues? My husband got up almost exclusively. Because I need my sleep. And once I wasn’t breastfeeding anymore, I’d claw an eye out to get it.
Of course, we all have gifted children. The average ones must just grow in cabbage patches and just appear in elementary school. Well, my children do seem smart to me. But are they READING? Um, sometimes they EAT books. Does that count?
I feed my kids food that fell on the floor. I would LOVE to reintroduce television to my household. I am tired and once my husband is home I have to pee A LOT. (And the iPhone/computer does, too.) When my children are whirling dervishes of noise and discontent, I turn up the music to drown them out.
I am not artsy. I need directions or at least a picture reference to do any sort of art project. I mean can you even guess which one of these is mine and which one is my son’s?
My husband and I circle around each other in the hopes that the one who flinches first will put BOTH children to bed. Our house is a disaster 9 out of 10 days. My husband loves leaving dirty diapers wherever he changes N. I love leaving my clothes wherever I changed. We couldn’t find the broom for a week. I have no idea when we changed a bed sheet. In any room.
I hate showering and have my iPhone set to remind me to bath my children. I once lost my son in a hardware store. I twice lost my daughter in my house.
I’m an average mom. I’m a below-average housekeeper. I have an above-average husband but that’s only because the standards for husbands and fathers are so freaking low.
Now leave me alone or I have to go back to ignoring my kids while I write.