I'm feeling a lot of pressure lately to "cherish every moment". Yes, I know, "they grow up so fast". Yes, I get it, "this time is precious". Oh. My. Fucking. God. Why are my children crying again?! I mean, "I'm coming my precious little dears who will soon be grown up. How can I help you this time?"
Have I told you about the truly enormous overreactions of my sweet babies? Every scrape, bump, splinter or hurt feeling results in the same wailing and carrying on. Sometimes this wailing and carrying on will last only a few moments and sometimes the sweet baby is inconsolable for hours and hours and hours. Ok, maybe not hours. A long time though. I have no way of knowing whether this wailing is commensurate with the damage done by the fall from the top of the monkey bars because it's the same wailing that happened 7 and a half minutes ago when she stubbed her toe on the peddle of her bike. Yes, I've told them the story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. They don't get how it applies to them. Even when I tell the story using their names.
Also, dinner is not ready and I don't have a plan anymore because the potatoes that were going to become delicious mashed potatoes were growing long stems and a little bit of mold. And also, the chicken smells funny. Everyone is hungry and it is my responsibility to solve this problem before we all melt down and wail and carry on for hours and hours and hours.
I'm trying really effing hard to cherish this time. Truly, I am. I get it, it will be gone in a blink. I'm trying to remember that it is a gift to have these beautiful, healthy, wailing children. I know that sooner than I can imagine they will be sullen teenagers who have come to realize the truth about me, which is that I have no idea what I'm doing and that I squandered the precious moments. They will hate me. And I won't have cherished enough. Fuck!
I think maybe, all those old people (I mean the really old ones, like 64 year olds) didn't cherish this shit either. Maybe they cherished the sweet moments but forgot about the 92% of the day that is wailing and carrying on and making breakfast and making lunch and then making dinner and folding laundry and fetching glasses of water . . . again. I wish they would stop telling me to cherish it because that phrase is sneaking into the vernacular of my peers and they are saying it too sometimes. And the truth is, we are all perpetuating this myth that it's all sunshine and roses and if we're not loving it and recognizing it as precious then we're wasting the time and we'll regret it later. Bullshit. This is hard and we'll all be a little bit grateful when our teenagers sleep until noon and then only want a bowl of cereal that they can prepare their own damn selves.
Probably we'll miss this sweet time too because we'll have forgotten the 92% of the day that is actually just kind of a slog and we will remember the sweetness. There is plenty (almost plenty) of sweetness. And some days those moments seem to swell enough to crowd out the 92%. We will tell new mothers to "cherish every sweet thing" and that it will "all be gone in flash". Humph! I guess I get it, but . . . Oh, wait, there's the crying again.
I'm Molly. I'm all in for parenting. I'm all in for good food. All in for big and small outdoor adventures. And really only partly in for homemaking. I want a Martha Stewart home and meal, but the truth is, we mamas just can't do it all. Not really. This shit is tricky!
This is a collection of musings and missives about parenting like you mean it. I mean really mean it. About how you can pull off a really mostly decent meal, keep your house kinda clean, do some of your laundry, and also even remember to usually feed your pets. But mostly about how being a mama is hard and we can totally rock it, but maybe that dream of perfection has got to give a little.