My New Favorite Book

I had heard about this book a while ago - and then happened upon it in a bookstore today. "I was a really good mom, before I had kids". It's awesome.

The whole premise of the book is that today's mom thinks she can have it all. We were taught that by our parents, and continue to push ourselves through this never ending marathon of trying to be the perfect mom. This stresses, "You can have it all, just not all at once".

At the beginning of every chapter there is a mini-quiz to see just how stressed out/burned out/macaroni and chessed out, you are. This one really hit home with me:

1. You yell at your kids semiregularly.
2. You look forward to going to work.
3. You turn on Noggin so you can check your e-mail.
4. You split a box of mac and cheese with your kids for dinner when your husband isn't home.
5. You can see your bad mood reflected on your children's faces.
6. You throw your kids at your husband when he walks in the door.
7. You quit nursing because you felt like a cow.
8. You let your baby scream to put herself to sleep.
9. You throw away your kids' drawings while they're sleeping.
10. You kids ask, "Why are you so happy, Mommy?" when you're having a good day.

Holy buckets. All of these have applied to me at one time or another (sometimes all at once), but I would NEVER, ever, admit that to anyone. I will clean up toys five times a day so my husband doesn't bitch about them being all over. I will attempt to make dinner even though I think we would all be happier with cereal. I will make perfect little goodie bags for the birthday party. Although, I have also forgotten treats for Tyler's birthday and sent Kyle to Wal-Mart at 7am to bring in cupcakes to daycare. I have forgotten to strap both kids into their carseats at times. I have let them watch WHATEVER they want on TV in order to get 2 minutes of peace and quiet. I have sat on the steps outside and drank beer while they played with their trucks.

Turns out - so does everyone else. The guilt we feel is self-manufactured, and we're making ourselves CRAZY trying to outrun it.

One of the last chapters in the book, properly titled "Oh My God, I don't want to color right now", starts out with these paragraphs:

"We've all managed to live in the moment at some point. We've lingered on the steps in front of daycare and talked to our three-year-old about the clouds. Or we've lain in the grass and looked at the flowers. Or we've sat on the floor with the mini kingdom set and played knight and princess like we had all the time in the world. Maybe we were on vacation, or we'd just wrapped up a major project. Whatever it was, that constantly revving engine inside us finally slowed down. The pressure subsided, the to-do list disappeared, and our child, who are always the most important things in our lives - in thought, if not always in actions - actually came front and center.

We've also all failed to do this, a lot. We've pushed the kids out the door to school. We've tried to make work calls in the bathroom while the baby's in the bath. We've spent entire Saturdays preoccupied with reorganizing our garage and told our kids, no, we can't play dress-up right now. And chances are, those days turned out to be a lot less fun. What's worse, those moments probably felt pretty normal - we all do these things all the time. Not just that, we all need to do these things all the time. We need to multitask. If we just focused on each single moment, one at a time, we'd need at least a seventy-two-hour day.

But consider what happens when we actually put other concerns at bay - for ten minutes, for half an hour, for an afternoon - and just focus on our kids. Yes, the dirty dishes stay in the sink, or the haircut appointment does not get made, but the payoff is immense. Those minutes spent playing fort under the dining room table are not only the best part of our children's days, but they're the best part of our days, too.

Amen.