Monday, February 13, 2012
Mommy Mondays: A Reminder Why I Never Leave The House
"It's library day," my sister says when she calls. "Do you want to go?"
A quick glance at my disaster house and my tantrum-throwing almost two-year-old tells me, "Don't do it... You've begun a strict regimen of never leaving the house. Remember?"
But my voice says "Sure."
As we enter the storytime room I see myself in the myriad of women who surround me. But it's not the myself I am now. It's the old myself--the one who was cuter and spunkier and only had one child myself. It's the myself from nine years ago.
The ladies present are the myselves who still dress trendy and have baby equipment that doesn't appear to have come from a 1990s daycare center garage sale. They're the myselves with huge diaper bags containing granola bars and bottled water and other fancy lady stuff like medicine and a plastic changing pad and baby wipes.
***I mean if my kid has the gumption to go poop at the library he can handle the ten minute ride home in his dirty diaper. Those baby changing stations weren't made for mothers with lots of children. Mine run around the public bathroom saying "what's this?" while they stare at the condom dispenser and crawling on the diseased tile to go under a locked stall door.***
Those ladies are the myselves who are looking for friendship and camaraderie. They're the myselves who sidle up to other moms and say, "How old is your little one?" just to start a conversation about shots and potty training and oh-my-gosh-he-can-read?!!
If a cute young Mom sidles up to me and says "How old is your little one?" I might just say, "I'm 32. Don't waste your time here." I know 32 isn't old in today's mommy standards, but when faced with a barrage of first time mommies with skinny butts, all I can remember is how OLD I am.
And it's okay that they are that way. Like I say, I was too. I was the 23-year-old first time Mommy who took my youngest to a puppet show when she was two weeks old. I'm. Not. Kidding. We walked to the library EVERY SINGLE WEEK and I often used the "How old is your little one?" line like a schmoozy used car salesman. It was a happy time of life.
These gals are wonderful ladies and moms. So why does the jaded side of me want to say, "Guess what? I know something you don't know."
What would that "something" be? Who knows? Maybe that it's not all going to be easy. That they're not always going to be nice. That they're going to yell. That they're going to feel frumpy. That they're going to cry.
I would tell them it's going to be worth it--yes. It's going to be perfect at times--yes. But growing old and growing from the first-time Mom to the fourth-time Mom is also going to hurt like heck.
But of course they wouldn't want to hear that. I SURE WOULDN'T HAVE! The reality of what they should be told is this--Great job! You are doing an absolutely great job!
Anyway, back to the library: My baby threw a royal tantrum when the Tootie Fruities were dolled out for bracelets (and apparently a paper plate full of free snacks wasn't his idea of enough).
Needless to say, we didn't make any new friends at the library today. But hey, my two middles had a great time, so I suppose it was worth dragging my recently designated recluse self out of the house.
Posted by Maggie at 6:00 AM