I could SO be crazy Mom. You know, that Mom that screams at the seven-year-old on the baseball field to GET ON THE BASE! Or that Mom that shows up on her turn to provide cheer snacks with personalized bags and monogrammed megaphones and team colors that clearly took her HOURS to prepare, stuff, sort, & put together. I could SO be crazy Mom that makes her child practice her gymnastics routine in living room or requests another run through because she’s afraid how her kid is going to make her look because she’s invited the entire world to the performance or game or activity. The Mom that nothing is ever good enough for no matter how hard the teachers, coaches, instructors work.
I could SO easily be that Mom that looks like she has everything together, clearly organized and identified by color coded monogram. But that Mom is barely hanging on.
In fact, my husband was convinced that I would be the kind of Mom.
But what I’ve learned in five and a half years about myself is that, really and truly, I just don’t care. She’s five. Okay, so her recital dance isn’t perfect. Her hair is falling down. Her shirt isn’t bedazzled. All of her dance shoes are too snug. And there is a pinhole in her tights. Somehow between dance #2 & dance #3 she lost her hairpiece and flower accessory. And she looks a hot mess up on the stage wiggling her hips. Inside of me, there is a crazy Mom that is freaking out. Completely losing it. Is in need of a valium. Or a glass of wine. Or both.
But crazy Mom makes up only 2% of my brain now. The semi-rational 98% has a way of wrapping her arms around crazy Mom and either calming her down, gently, or violently suffocating her silent. Either way, it works. Because my daughter is five. And no matter what happens on stage, she’s going to be adorable. Because the expectation is not that it’s perfect. At least for me it’s not. Not anymore. The expectation is that she has fun. Learns something. Loves living. Soaks every essence of marrow out of life.
Because all I really and truly want is for her to be happy.