Adventures are not all pony-rides in May-sunshine.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien
A mother’s mental stability is tested when she takes her small one to the pediatrician, and today was my day of testing. It was all the fun you can imagine, and the best part was when the Nurse Practitioner, “Nurse Antsy”(as my son calls her, because her name is Nancy) showed up and said, “Do you feel alright? You look very pale.”
She wasn’t talking the three year old.
To be honest I don’t feel so great. I woke up at 3 a.m. Now is the season for pesky mosquito bites and my children equate mosquito bite pain with an appendectomy. I feel like I could nap on command. There is calamine lotion under my fingernails.
Nurse Antsy demanded I take iron supplements and said something about me needing more attention than my child. I guess my lips are too pale.
I stumbled out of there, feeling sorry for myself. I didn’t even get a sticker.
After the pediatrician’s I did the only thing a pale, worn out mother can do: I took three boys to Target to do some shopping. Among my other adventures, my house is being invaded by moths. I needed some moth stuff. I went with cedar chips, because I’m not ready to jump into the dark and stinky world of mothballs.
So there I was, driving a red cart right before lunch time. My children were ticking time bombs and the sippy cup was empty when I noticed that the toys were 50-70% off. I did the only thing I could do, and bought all my Christmas presents now, in July.
I have a lot of relations, so the cart was full before you could say “Reindeer”. I stumbled to the register, carrying a baby with one shoe, pushing a cart that was topped with toys, followed by two boys who were hitting each other with pool noodles and yelling, “QWACK, QWACK!”
I felt a little crazy.
I usually feel a little crazy.
I think crazy is a normal feeling for a Mommy, that glorious stage of Motherhood when nobody calls you “Mother” but plenty of people are calling you, “I WANT MILK!”
The key to success is to feel crazy but not act crazy.
Sometimes I think I must have everything together; smooth and silky. My children have to be perfect or at least NOT FUSSY. Perhaps we all have ideals about how a pool noodle should be used in a public space. It’s okay to have feelings. It’s okay to be upset when your kids are about to take out the entire Hotwheels section with a piece of foam. It’s okay to feel crazy.
I think if your kid uses a pool noodle in an unauthorized way while you’re trying to do Christmas Shopping in July, you can chalk it up to life and smile as you plan on eating ice cream at nap time. Because life is never happy, perfect, smooth and silky ALL the time. And that’s okay.
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