I had a conversation with my Mom (who is a single parent) about how tired I am of just being. I whined about everything and blew up the BIG pity balloons at my on-the-spot-pity party that I was throwing for myself. “Mommy I am just tired of being the everything decision maker, medical personnel, provider of all- food, clothing, shelter, needs & wants” —I whined. Taxi. Education Director. Juggler. Detective. Advocate. Cheerleader. Prayer Warrior. Disciplinarian. Entertainment Manager. Milk-Picker-Upper. Papers-Filler-Outer. Single income bringer-inner. Clothing Merchandiser. (I went on and on). For every thought or thing I want to do I have to consider impact on the lives of others. Plans to do anything requires a project matrix plan to position everyone where they want or need to be.” I went on “….think about it Mom, if a kid is acting out or refuses to wear clean clothes — the FIRST thing people say is…where is that child’s mother? They don’t know battle that took place that morning over the laundry….I’m over it!” My mother listened, uhm-hmmed in understanding and reminded me that God is able to keep and sustain me. She extended the love and patience a tantrum throwing child needs, while talking me away from the edge. You would think after all of this soothing conversation that I felt better….but in actuality I felt worse. Continue reading
….like we don’t have enough to do
Mom VS MOM – By Ralph Gardner Jr.
Ann approached another mother at a school function recently and happily introduced herself. Not only were their younger kids in kindergarten together, she explained, but their older sons played in the same weekend soccer league. “She said, ‘Oh,’ and just walked away,” Ann remembers. “That was it. ‘Oh.’ It was a school event. It wasn’t like it was the steam room at Bliss where she was naked.”
Ann is certain she knows why her fellow mom dissed her, if in fact she did. It has nothing to do with Ann’s confusing on-again-off-again marriage, or the disparity in their net worths. (Ann is middle-class; the other woman is profoundly wealthy.) No, as far as Ann is concerned, the reason the other woman turned tail is that Ann works full-time. Her adversary, on the other hand, is a gloriously full-time stay-at-home mom — with all the attendant benefits that implies not only to her youngsters but also to the life of the school. A stamp licker, an envelope stuffer, an active member of the parents association, a person who can always be counted on to bring not one but two or three dishes to the annual potluck dinner — even if, as Ann suspects, she buys them and passes them off as her own. “In the school directory, you can see who has a job and who doesn’t,” Ann says, imagining the woman taking a black marker and banishing her to oblivion. Continue reading