It is funny how I glided from being an extremely difficult let’s-do-what-I-wanna-do-or-else singleton who didn’t give a tiny rat’s a*s about the world’s WAY of doing things to an on-cloud-nine wify of a man who loved me more than I ever thought possible to a crazed-out-of-my-wits mom of three frenetic toddlers who thought their mom would KNOW what their 3 am karate moves on crib slats meant to a now-ever-so-more-cautious mom of tweens who sometimes, enjoys the loud music blaring down the hall as she rehearses her very own choreographed dance-as-you-cook moves in the kitchen!
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And yet, wading through all the diaper pails, Lego bricks, stuffed toys, and barbies, here I am – not so much changed as evolved from my own delusional I-am-a-girl-who-has-her-sh*t-together phase to a woman who has no qualms accepting the fact that she isn’t positively certain she ever had it together in the first place – like really fully intact! In fact, I think the closest I ever came was when I was promoted to marketing head and proposed to by the love of my life, on the same day – even though I wish I wasn’t wearing that pantsuit with a spaghetti stain when it happened! Over the years, my occasional motivational cycles to get my sh*t together have been following the same loop of flow-and-repeat until I realize it’s all futile and throw back with a beer and revel in the tunes of a song I call ‘can’t-get-my-sh*t-together’ song! However, being a LOVE-ly wify and even LOVE-lier mom doesn’t come that easy and the urge resurfaces ever so often – especially around holiday season!
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With Christmas knocking, all past attempts in the category are flooding my mind – right from the times when getting the kids to wear their boots for Christmas shopping turned from a five-minute affair to a two-hour job because they turned their legs into limp noodles to the times shopping turned into a gym workout because the kids wouldn’t tire of disappearing in the middle of a clothes rack or another aisle, making you run in a frantic search for them in an uncalled for hide-and-seek game! Yes, they are grown now and I don’t have THAT to deal with. But I AM flooded with enthused questions about what I’d like for Christmas. They are always iffy about pooling their pocket money together with a generous contribution from their lovely dad to buy me a bathrobe or a kitchen appliance or some such thing! I know because I have seen catalogs around. I know because they suddenly stopped talking last night, when I accidentally entered their room without knocking. I know because they have asked!
This time, I have substituted my usual answer of ‘Nothing hon, I have you guys’ with a demand for a mom’s day off! I want to feel the *feels* of a conscious effort at not having one’s sh*t together – not worrying about the sound of all Christmas ornaments crashing together with the music that I’d otherwise carefully pick, not flipping out when I find a bite stolen from the cheese cake that I’d normally bake, not having to care about the alignment of mistletoes, pine needles or making drinks and a million other things in the same book! But I am guessing here’s how my Christmas special mom’s day off is going to go..
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I shall grab a good book, a hot steaming cup of coffee, put on my ‘can’t-get-my-sh*t-together’ song and fall back on the lush couch I took three whole hours last week to rid of dead fries, crumbs, and food stains! Only when I might demand that somebody fix me a good cup of coffee, they will break something. I will rush to the kitchen to find some expensive glassware broken and do my so-much-for-a-day-off eye roll, melt with their adorable sorry expression and set about cleaning the mess, ensuring my kids are out of the way and don’t hurt themselves on the shattered pieces. After trashing the broken pieces in the bin, I might want to wash my hands when I’d notice the pile of dirty, filthy sauce-covered dishes and peanut butter washed spoons sitting in the sink. I might make it a point to wash these and return to my original plan of relaxing- but not before issuing a useless reminder to my kids about dropping off these items in the dishwasher! Just as I’d wrap up this abhorrent job, I might realize I need a clean towel. And just when I wouldn’t find one, I will know there’s a whole ton of laundry pending. Giving in to a Monica Geller syndrome, I might rush to finish laundry before breathing easy- only to hear my kids asking me (yes, in that cute way) to do their uniforms too! And just when I get their hampers, I might realize we are out of detergent and head to the store. I might end up stocking up on an entire month’s list and given the festive cheer spread in the store, might want to rush back and bake a cake. Maybe even pick a small Christmas tree…
And the cycle will continue…
But I must not let my imagination get me. Maybe it won’t be like that! Maybe I will be a proud declarant of not-having-my-sh*t-together and maybe, just maybe I will have a real mom’s day off!
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