A Raw Introduction

I am a mom of two sons. They are 5.5 and 3 years old.  They are full of testosterone. I am in the trenches. Like you, I love and adore my sons. Like you, I would do anything for them. Perhaps unlike you, I have a mouth like a truck driver, will not enable them, do not think they can do ‘no-wrong’, hate helicopter moms, and believe a stiff drink can take the edge off when you want to drop the “f” bomb in their faces as they run around the dinner table at night when you would like to have one family dinner in peace!

Two free hours! This is the first time in five years that I will have some time to myself that does not involve someone else watching my kids so that I can go to a doctor’s appointment or substitute teach to help the family financials. My sons are in summer school together for a total of 3 hours, 3 days a week. They are safe and having fun. I trust and love their teachers and environment. I can breathe.

What do I do? After getting myself a cherished half vanilla, half hazelnut latte from the Coffee Bean, ordering a small cake for my second son’s 3^rd birthday (tomorrow), I head home. Next, I send an email regarding swim lessons. I make reservations to bring the family Honda Odyssey in for three recalls and a B1 service. Then, I think. Do I go for a walk because I desperately need to lose a few pounds? Should I do more laundry and housework along with prepping dinner because it’s efficient? Shall I watch a Tivoed show that’s been sitting on the t.v. for months? Do I crawl into bed and allow exhaustion to have a home for a short time? Guilt is gnawing. Time is ticking.

Mommy blog! That’s what I’ve wanted to do for some time now. But who really needs to read about one more mom’s thoughts about life and motherhood? No one really. Fuck it though. This is my platform. This is my venting place. My sanctuary to be raw, vulnerable, uncensored, and completely me yet strangely anonymous. Those who know me will hardly be surprised. There is still room on the World Wide Web, right? Isn’t that why so many of us gravitate to this? Oh, and ego. Some will claim it’s to give sage advice and be selfless, others will corner a catchy niche or angle. I am simply looking for catharsis. Plain, real, and selfish.

Did I mention I am a high school English teacher by trade? Long before I received a BA, Master’s degree and teaching credentials, I loved writing just for the sake of writing. I have a bag of some ten or more diaries. I keep a small journal in my car in case I have to pull over for a poem to spill out. Another two journals are in my nightstand drawer so I can write to my boys. They can read my loving thoughts of them when they are grown men.  Writing is a craft, and it takes time and effort. I have lazy days, and days I have to work hard. Regardless, I love it. Words run through my veins like blood cells.

Today is the day. Today is my day. Today I must set aside some time for words because I have lost so much of myself.

Okay, laundry is tumbling. Now that I am multi-tasking, I can write somewhat guilt-free, right? As the cursor blinks, no yells at me, to get started, I don’t know where to begin. It’s a race against the clock, my nemesis. Once you become a mom, everything changes. But, not in the ways you thought, dreamt, hoped, and imagined. After you get married, and discover you are pregnant, you may feel so blessed and hopeful like I did. I wanted to be a mom more than anything, and for as long as I can remember to boot. I had it all planned out. I even played out the many scenes with my Barbies thousands of times! Society helps create the image in our little girl minds and it’s so pretty, isn’t it?

Most of us have a great baby shower, and as the birth date approaches we have normal fears and anxieties, but we are filled with such excitement. When our little “bundle of joy” arrives one way or another, an avalanche hits our lives. We become moms.  It’s a secret society where so much is unspoken because of a myriad of emotions that roll over you, consume you, and sometimes engulf you like a spider web tangling your soul, clipping your wings, and squeezing your heart til it bleeds unnaturally. Though every story and its details are different, so much of it is the same.

It’s bizarre how many things we sugar coat. I wonder why we do that. Do we do it for ourselves or for others? Is it inherently kind or cruel? Survival.

Before I blink, it’s time to grab my keys and hop in my mini van and pick up the boys from summer school. Side note: I used to drive an Acura TL with tinted windows. It was fast and I played my music loudly and let the wind tangle my hair. It felt like freedom! I loved it. Anyway, my short two hours of silence and peace have come to a rapid close.  Not much got done. Frustration and depression have set in, again. Let me slip back into my two main roles: servant and referee. Does that make me sound callous and horrible? It’s reality.  I have to find some solace in believing it’s “temporary”. If I am lucky, I will get to see one episode of The Orange is the New Black tonight…