First You have to Admit You have a Problem
I may be a top contender for Worst Mom Ever, and I don't say that with a smirk on my face or trying to be cute, I literally mean it, and I don't see it changing just because I am admitting I have a problem.
I've been a stay-at-home-mom for 22 years. That number is insane and doesn't seem real, but since I'm watching my mothering skills plummet, I know that number represents more than "time served," it also represents exhaustion and inability to fake it any longer.
I watch my new-mom contemporaries at soccer, baseball, school, hockey and volunteering all around the town with bright smiles and excited enthusiasm about all the things their children are involved in. I remember those days...
Waking up for early-morning hockey games, freezing my ass off on the metal bleachers, just excited to see their little bodies know how to skate and hold a hockey stick at the same time. Rainy, summer t-ball games with my umbrella and folding chair was a weekend norm when my two older children were little....
And now it is all I can do to muster up the energy and enthusiasm to even attend a game, let alone a practice...oh Lord, take me now!
I don't want to be this way! I swear I want to care! I want to find hockey at 7:00 a.m. fun. I want to enjoy watching a kid-pitch baseball game in 45 degree weather, fun. I want to not roll my eyes every time the pitcher misses catching the ball for the 100th time, I do, I swear I do! Please don't take my mom card... I've done my time...I've done this... I just...don't...know...if...I....can...do....it....any...more....
But I do. I freeze. I sit. I watch...yes I roll my eyes and complain to myself, but I go, most of the time. I mean I can't be expected to go to every ice hockey game and practice at 7:00 a.m., ON the weekend, when my husband is perfectly capable of taking them??? I mean, he is the one that SIGNED THEM UP!!
Is it wrong that I die a little inside every year when they say that want to sign up again?? Is it wrong that I cringe when I get the text from Jim that it is $1400 for a few weeks of hockey? Is it wrong that I get angry that baseball is interfering with me going to our lake house? I mean, neither of them are going to be professional hockey players...or baseball/softball players...right?!?!
Oh I'm such a shit. I blame my husband, he's the one that told me that everyone thinks their kids will be professional players and nobody hardly makes it...I'll blame him.
But then I hear my mother's voice "better to take them to baseball, than rehab!" A little excessive, yes?
But she's right.
This is the stuff that keeps them busy. This is the stuff that gives them a place to find friends when all the friends at school are being shits. This is the stuff where they find their creative, expressive, working-hard self. This is where they learn to listen to a coach, work together, try hard, not quit what they started, not give up when things get tough, practice and be accountable to a team. This is where all of that happens.
And so I need to get my act together. I need to find a good bleacher chair, a big umbrella, start saving for next years hockey fees and slap a smile on my face.
Because what I am watching at these games and practices is not baseball or hockey. What I am watching is my children learning to be active members of society. What I am watching is them becoming amazing humans. What I am watching is my kids working hard to create their future by finding their self esteem, their abilities, their hard work paying off on the ice and field. And what they need to see while they are doing it, is their mom with a smile on her face waving from the cold, metal stands.
I've been a stay-at-home-mom for 22 years. That number is insane and doesn't seem real, but since I'm watching my mothering skills plummet, I know that number represents more than "time served," it also represents exhaustion and inability to fake it any longer.
I watch my new-mom contemporaries at soccer, baseball, school, hockey and volunteering all around the town with bright smiles and excited enthusiasm about all the things their children are involved in. I remember those days...
Waking up for early-morning hockey games, freezing my ass off on the metal bleachers, just excited to see their little bodies know how to skate and hold a hockey stick at the same time. Rainy, summer t-ball games with my umbrella and folding chair was a weekend norm when my two older children were little....
And now it is all I can do to muster up the energy and enthusiasm to even attend a game, let alone a practice...oh Lord, take me now!
I don't want to be this way! I swear I want to care! I want to find hockey at 7:00 a.m. fun. I want to enjoy watching a kid-pitch baseball game in 45 degree weather, fun. I want to not roll my eyes every time the pitcher misses catching the ball for the 100th time, I do, I swear I do! Please don't take my mom card... I've done my time...I've done this... I just...don't...know...if...I....can...do....it....any...more....
But I do. I freeze. I sit. I watch...yes I roll my eyes and complain to myself, but I go, most of the time. I mean I can't be expected to go to every ice hockey game and practice at 7:00 a.m., ON the weekend, when my husband is perfectly capable of taking them??? I mean, he is the one that SIGNED THEM UP!!
Is it wrong that I die a little inside every year when they say that want to sign up again?? Is it wrong that I cringe when I get the text from Jim that it is $1400 for a few weeks of hockey? Is it wrong that I get angry that baseball is interfering with me going to our lake house? I mean, neither of them are going to be professional hockey players...or baseball/softball players...right?!?!
Oh I'm such a shit. I blame my husband, he's the one that told me that everyone thinks their kids will be professional players and nobody hardly makes it...I'll blame him.
But then I hear my mother's voice "better to take them to baseball, than rehab!" A little excessive, yes?
But she's right.
This is the stuff that keeps them busy. This is the stuff that gives them a place to find friends when all the friends at school are being shits. This is the stuff where they find their creative, expressive, working-hard self. This is where they learn to listen to a coach, work together, try hard, not quit what they started, not give up when things get tough, practice and be accountable to a team. This is where all of that happens.
And so I need to get my act together. I need to find a good bleacher chair, a big umbrella, start saving for next years hockey fees and slap a smile on my face.
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