- I pack my boys’ homemade lunches every day, healthy too! – HA!
- I get all the laundry done every day – well, it does depend on the week
- I help my children with their homework – mostly never, I’m on special projects – the Hubs handles homework
- Their clothes are always ironed – all of the time, it’s an obsession of mine
- I clean my house – rarely ever — I outsourced that job
- I get my children to school on time – more often than not
- I cook a seven-course healthy meal for my family every night – not exactly
- I listen intently to every word that comes out of my son’s mouth – 99% of the time – I trained myself to stop what I am doing (even if it’s mid-wipe) to listen to my sons, if they’re talking I am listening (mostly!)
- I attend every single game of my sons – seriously? Not only is that impossible but sitting at a 9-year-old baseball game is like watching paint dry for 2 hours
- I never scream at my children – hello, do you know me? I am Italian and from New York
- I am consistent with my threats and always follow through – totally working on this
When I was away with my besties on our ‘girls weekend’ we were barely two hours and five ciders into yucking it up, feeding off cheese, downing wine, rum chatta and shoving nine months of barely seeing each other into a 53-hour weekend that I proudly and honestly declared to my friends that “I am an average mom.” That I am nowhere close to knocking the cover off the ball of this thing called “Motherhood.” I am not making home-made costumes for Halloween, there are no seven course meals at my house, my laundry is barely folded and put away. I forget to the move the Elf – – on the daily. And sometimes I rerun the dishwasher cause I don’t want to unload it – c’mon – there are more dirty dishes (don’t you dare fucking judge me, I am completely aware that I am ruining the environment when I take that extremely lazy route). Oh! If I can outsource any job in my house, I will.
One a scale from child protective services to June Clever. I am right in the middle.
I am an average mom.
I mean – the name of my blog could have given ya a clue right? Me and motherhood, 12 years later and we’re still getting acquainted.
My children know it too. When I told my youngest son that we have to bring in cupcakes for his in-school birthday party – he said “Can we please make cupcakes? I don’t want to be one of those kids that bring in store bought cupcakes.” I kid you not – this is verbatim from my soon- to-be nine-year-olds mouth – ya see, he was that kid for eight years- he knows damn well that I am average too.
My ride-and-dies agreed. None of us feel like we are living up to the expectations of what some of the other moms in our world are doing – the pressure of parenting is … So. Much. All. The. Time.
Who is holding us to the fire and putting this pressure on us? Is it the mom whom plans the insanely fun playdates? The parenting magazines that tell us to bento box our kids lunches? The stay-at-home dad who built the ‘American Ninja Warrior’ course in his back yard? Could it be the endless declarations from parents across the globe (mmmm Facebook) that their kiddos are on the high honor roll, just hit a homer on their elite travel baseball team or that little Susie took the stage at Carnegie Hall? Or is it the senseless expectations I put on myself when the little buggers came screaming into world?
It’s definitely all of it, but mostly the expectations that I put on myself. Why would I do that? Did I watch way too many Brady Bunch episodes? Wait, that couldn’t be cause I am clearly in the running with Peg from Married with Children.
Let’s face it –being a parent is hard. It’s hard if you stay-at-home (frankly I think it’s harder if you’re a SAHM/D) and it’s hard if you go and foster a career. And it is by far 150% harder if you going at this parenting thing alone.
My “Come-to-Jesus” moment was when I realized it was okay to be an average mom. I could breathe knowing that it is okay that some weeks I may just decoupage the crap out of some school project and other weeks it is perfectly find to run last-minute to 7-11 to bring in stale store-bought cupcakes.
About two weeks after I made my average mom declaration to my best friends I was in the car with my sons and husband. From the back seat of the car I hear my 12-year-olds voice “Mom, Dad” , I quickly turn down the music, I mean it is the rare moment he looked up from his phone – “in class this week we had to pick a person we wanted to sit on a bench and talk to.” Before I could say so “who did you pick?” The 12-year-old said “Do you know who I picked?” I instantly thought it was his dad or either one of his grandfather’s — I mean his dad is his hero, as well as his grandfathers. Over the hum of the tires rolling down the road the 12 year-old sweetly stated “I picked you Mommy.” In complete shock — tears filled my eyes, I proudly looked over at my husband- I must admit in an ‘in-your-face-moment’- I BEAMED with joy, I mean, this was my total Sally Field moment – my sons never pick me over their fun daddy!
Well hot-damn – I’ll be an average mom any day of the week!