Do you remember that day when I said that I was a really good mom?
Well, right now, I am giving myself another double high five. Thumbs up emoji.
Because I just chopped up a head of cauliflower, drizzled it with oil, seasoned it and then stuck it in a hot oven to roast for dinner.
In that post from earlier this month, I wrote all about my failures, my successes, the world of Mom-petition and my own evolution.
Well, today, to be honest, I did not spend all of my day actually parenting.
I woke up this morning to the sound of my daughter opening my door ever-so-quietly.
She peaked her head in, as it was still dark, and said, “I am in such a perfect mood for snuggles.”
And, so, really, how could I resist?
As my husband stayed asleep, my daughter and I curled up together, talking about our dreams.
My son slept in, today.
He woke up just before 9 and I fed him breakfast. And a glass of warm milk. And then I let him eat chocolate chip cookies straight from the box.
He and I played with blocks and some toy cars, and he practiced counting…until I had a work meeting and then an appointment, so he stayed in the care of loved ones.
And then, when my appointment was over, I didn’t go home.
I got a pedicure. And an eyebrow wax. And then I picked up my daughter from school in carline.
And that’s the truth.
But, as I chopped the cauliflower, just now, without great finesse, I did something that I have not done in a very, very long time; I took a step towards cooking a full family dinner.
Tonight, we will all sit down and have a proper meal, and I will feel like a “real mom”; a real woman; a real person.
I say what I said above with the utmost respect for parents and humans of all kinds. There is no one right way to take care of children–or any people, for that matter. But, for me, this was a goal, and I am happy to have reached it today.
I cannot say this enough: we are so hard on ourselves. It is never enough. I constantly feel less than.
I can’t take my kids for long walks in the stroller, and I can’t go back to teaching right now, as I had planned, and I can’t always accompany them on family outings. This is not who I used to be. This is not how things work on my street or in my neighborhood or on TV. But this is what I can do, and I am doing my very best.
What do I do?
I kiss my son a thousand times to get him to fall asleep in my arms. Literally 1,000.
( by the way, this isn’t like one of those, “this is literally the craziest thing that has ever happened. I mean LITERALLY.)
I cuddle my daughter in the mornings before the sun comes up.
I make up full song and dance routines to Disney songs,
I dress up for “Rocky Horror” record time
and I love them with all of my might.
And tonight, after they go to bed, I will have band practice, singing songs that I wrote. We have a big gig on Friday night, and so we are cramming in the practice time. I still look at Kevin, sometimes, as he plays a genius chord to a song that gives me The Feels, and I say, “we created this!”, incredulously.
Today I was a good mom, because I was good to my kids, good to my colleagues, good to my peers, good to my husband, good to my friends…
but, perhaps most importantly, I was good to myself.
It is almost dinner time now, the food is in the oven and the table is half set.
And my son just came over to me with a lollipop, stuck it in my face, and said, “Open!”
Did I open that sucker (literally)?
I sure did. Because he used his words and I don’t think that it will have an impact on whether or not he eats his cauliflower. And if it does, we will survive. We’ve been through much, much worse.
Today I was a good person. And that matters most of all