When they put my oldest into my arms I knew I was on the edge of being crazy Mom. I had been crazy Mom all through my pregnancy. I had fallen off the edge of crazy and into the pit of insanity and I really, really wanted to be better. I wanted to become the person I always wanted to be. And I knew with this little life in my arms I had the opportunity to change. To become that person. The girl that I was longed to be someone better – because she knew that the irrational person hiding inside of me was plotting on how she would get out. And I had to decide that I wouldn’t let crazy Mom take me over.
So, I decided. I would not be crazy Mom. I compartmentalized her. She was not welcome to my party. And there she stays, tucked away, in the far reaching corners of my brain.
Every once and I while, I find myself falling back into the arms of crazy Mom. I’m so easily sucked into the feelings of has to be like this and my kid is more talented and stand up straight, practice, be perfect. Most times, I’m lucky. I can feel her brewing and I push her down, hiding her into the corner of my soul. But sometimes, crazy Mom is unleashed. And I can’t help myself. I snap. I get psycho and begin to push and pull and overreact and feed the irrational. And when it’s all over, I stand back from my wreckage and see tear stained cheeks and littles quivering lips and an exasperated husband and it’s enough for me to realize why I never wanted to be crazy Mom in the first place.
So I have to walk away from crazy Mom. Both the one shoved to the corner inside my brain and the one sitting next to me at after school activities. It’s not that I am complacent or uncaring. I’m not trying to be rude or uninterested. I just know that everyone that I love is happier, healthier, more well adjusted when I am not dictating how everything goes. When I let go and allow them to just be. When I do me and worry about teaching my girls to do them. When we stop worrying about everything and everyone else. And focus on doing right.
When I defriend crazy Mom.
Because, let’s be real honest, I don’t want the other Moms talking about me the way we talk about her.