THAT Mom

I am going to start by saying, I may be a nerd, or a sucker, but I am not THAT Mommy.

We all know her. Sometimes we think we want to be her. But for me, the truth is, I am not her and I never will be her.

You know, the one who is perfect. Her children are perfect. The whole family outshines the rest of the neighborhood. We bask in their awesomeness. (if that is even a word)

I started thinking about it yesterday when we took my parents to breakfast for my dad's birthday. We were supposed to be at the restaurant at 9:30 am. No large task since both of my children don't sleep. Ever.

I knew the girls would be up at, oh, five am, so we should have plenty of time to get ready and get out the door. I was right. Hayley was up at 5:10 and Sam had already been up from 2 until 5am so I was bleary eyed and, well, awake. Comatose is more like it but I guess since my eyes were open it could be considered a state of alert.

I didn't want to be rushing out the door screaming at my two year old to put on her socks, put on her shoes, get her coat, get in the car so we started getting ready at 7:45. Mind you, the restaurant is ten minutes from our house. So essentially we had about an hour and a half to shower and get dressed. Oh the luxury. I can't remember the last time I had an hour and a half to get showered and dressed. Showers now consist of the entire family getting in, dunking, soaping, screaming about wetting our heads, fighting over the soap bottle, you know, all that fun stuff. But I digress.

I thought we would have tons of time. Except I didn't take into account that although the girls have clean laundry it hasn't been put away. Or even folded. So I had to sift through the laundry basket to find something that wasn't too wrinkly for Hayley. And Sam, well, Sam pukes on everything you put on her before you even get it buttoned up. So I had to find Sam six outfits to wear before we even got out the door.

At any rate, we did get dressed. The kids looked like rockstars and I at least had on clean clothes. By clean clothes I mean if there were any puke stains on my jeans they must have been on the back where I couldn't see them, so they qualified as clean. I think my hair was combed. Some days I can't tell and I figure if it doesn't look like I didn't comb it then it wouldn't matter if it looked like I did comb it.

Of course we were late. We rushed up to the restaurant looking, well, rushed. Harassed might be a better term for it because that is pretty much how you look and feel when trying to get out the door on time. Looking nice.

And as I sat there at breakfast this entire blog ran through my head. I paid attention to my family and all, because I can multi-task like that. But I thought about how before I became a Mommy I was pretty judgemental. I saw those people pushing their kids through the grocery store in their dirty pajamas at like noon and I wondered why they didn't lay down the parental law.

There was a point in my life where I said I never wanted to have children. One day something inside of me snapped and I decided I did want to have children. Perfect ones. Because I was going to be the perfect Mommy. Not sure if that's the Virgo in me or if that's just how all Mommies start out.

Maybe that's how all Mommies start out and it's just an endurance test. Some make it all the way to the finish line and they really are the perfect Mommy. Their children's clothes are not only folded and put away but they are also ironed. IRONED I tell you. These Mommies never forget to bring their diaper bag with them and they wouldn't be caught dead with a diaper bag that isn't fully stocked. They have treats and toys to entertain not only their own children but also someone else's (mine) unruly children that may influence their children.

They have dinner on the table every single night. And it isn't takeout on paper plates. Their children bathe on specific days and specific times, not just when their fingernails look a little grubby and their hair can no longer take a comb running through it. They have a calendar hanging somewhere in their home to coordinate all the events- Gymboree, birthday parties, doctors visits. Although I must say, they really are missing out on the excitement of remembering you have a birthday party to go to in the morning and you need to run out and get something. At midnight.

You know, I am just not that Mommy. My laundry gets done every week by the grace of a housekeeper that I adore. And she must just hate coming here because each week she sees the laundry from the week before still sitting in the basket where she folded it. She probably wonders why we can't just hang it or put it away but I say, hey we have to wear it anyway. I'd rather spend that time tickling Hayley or snuggling Sam.

My kids do shower or take baths. It's good that Hayley speaks so well because she does remind me. "Mommy? I take a bath tonight?" Oh, yes sweetheart, you do need to take a bath tonight. Remind Mommy again before we go to bed. With Sam, well, it was embarassing because she really did just take a shower yesterday but in the pediatricians office this morning I discovered dirt between her toes. And I have to say, she does shower, but it's like once a week. I was going to say twice but I have thought back as far as I can, and it's only once. Ick. But she's a baby. I mean, how dirty do you think a baby is? Ok. I will write it on the calendar to give her a bath or shower three times a week from now on.

I carry a forty pound backpack for a diaper bag and yet I never seem to have anything that will keep Hayley entertained or occupied. Instead yesterday at breakfast she entertained herself by guzzling maple syrup directly from the wee pitcher they brought for the pancakes. (Much to the horror of the perfect Mommy sitting in the booth across from us)

I dread the day that the children really have commitments to attend to- like soccer practice, ballet lessons, field trips at school. I am scared that I will buy the calendar but forget to consult it and instead I will become THAT Mom.

You know, the other kind. The not-so-perfect kind that forgets to pack her kids a lunch for the field trip and has to run to the school right before they leave with a random sack lunch of whatever they could buy at 7-11.

The kind that tells their kids they will pick them up from the movies if the other mom drops them off. And then forgets what time the movie is over. Ooops. Sure sweetie- stay inside though- I'm sorry the movie ended half an hour ago, I will be there in twenty minutes. In my jammies. Watch for me out the window ok?

You know, being a Mommy is hard enough. We don't need any more pressure. So I have just a few things to say. First of all, to those perfect Mommies out there- kudos. Bravo. Now knock it off. You don't have to be perfect. Nothing will happen if you child consumes a cup of maple syrup except you peeling them off the roof, and take it from me, you can do it.

And second, I don't really care to be in the race to be the perfect Mommy. I'm not THAT Mom, but I'm not THAT Mom either. I'm THIS Mom. And for now, that works great.

Comments

[Megan]

I am so not THAT mom either....love this blog. You are an insiration to us REAL moms! We all are who we are and THAT in itself is good enough!

[Mrs M]

Did you remove my comment Jenn? Sometimes I am THAT mum, but with 4 kids and working full time I would go crazy without my calendar! I am definately not THAT mum though! Here's to real mum's and piles of laundry ;)

[Kami]

Oh no!! So that means I am going to be horrible when I become a mom!!! My laundrey is piled up and I don't have children in my house everyday!!! LOL

Kami