Survival Days

Some days. Some days, the glow of motherhood is not so rosy.

You are sick. Baby is teething. You are out of coffee. Day three of a tension headache. Whatever the reason, you are just NOT into mommying today.

You know what I say? It is ok.

It’s a Survival Day.

Today is one of those survival days at our house.

I spent the weekend camping. Camping with children is one of those more-fun-in-anticipation-or-in-memory kind of things. We will make S’mores and hang out singing songs and go for nature walks and swim in the lake. The actual camping part. Not so much. They get bit up. The porta-potties stink and your kid is scared of them. It rains. You wake up to put on the tent flap at 3am (ok, husband dear does that, but you told him to earlier in the day and he insisted it wasn’t needed so, you don’t mind waking him so much.). Dinner takes forever to cook over the fire and then it is burnt. Kids whine for hot dogs, you made hamburgers. Etc. Etc. You come home exhausted late Sunday night with five loads of smoky laundry, a missing shoe, and mosquito bites.

So then I spend Monday picking up after camping. Then Monday night is a late one, errands to Costco/Office Depot. Then the kids won’t sleep.

So what does mama do Tuesday? Throw in a load of laundry (to feel productive) and hunker down on the couch with French press coffee, a good book and let the kids go to town.

Survival Day.

I really should post a picture of my living room right now. They have torn it up. Couch cushions on the floor (playing hot lava/jungle gym), toys dumped everywhere (playing garbage truck). Babycakes the second is still in her pajamas. (Although that happens a lot, why not? Cuts back on laundry, right?)

Today is not the day for conquering motherhood. Today is the day to survive it with your sanity intact. You know that saying the put on welcome mats and aprons “if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy” Well, it’s true. Right?

I have a friend who takes a WEEKLY Sabbath from her family. She goes out from noon-9pm one day a week. Goes shopping, sits in a coffee shop, writes, watches a movie.

I admire/envy/can’t believe her.

We don’t put enough of a priority on mommies when it comes to mommying. All the pressure to do this or that with your kid, keep the house looking just so, hot dinners every night when dada comes home. And then if you work outside (or inside the home) at another occupation you have to do that AND fill this role.

Mind numbingly tiring.

Mommying is tough emotional work. We don’t get recognition for that.

It’s emotional.

It’s draining.

It saps you of your you-ness.

Suddenly you find yourself eating food off the floor like a savage (and smelling like one too) and you think. My God, I can’t remember the last time I carried a purse rather than a diaper bag. I seriously pulled my cute little coach purse out the other day and realized I hadn’t taken it out in public in YEARS.

Pathetic.

What happens to us? It’s like we disappear.

And, I have realized. I can’t disappear for myself, or for my kids for that matter. They need ME to be their mommy. Not some shell of a mommy operating on autopilot. They need to know who I am what I like, what I am good at (tinkering away on the computer, putzing in a garden, doing yoga, running, putting on make-up, God forbid, and going out with daddy.) They need me to be me. Which means I can’t lose who I am.

So we need to cut ourselves a break every now and then. Get out our paints, if that is what we loved to do. Knit. Do some yoga, and show the kids your moves. Buy those impractical skinny jeans. Volunteer in a political campaign. Pull out a book on the history of the Arab world, or a biography of Dorothy Day.

And when the day gets rough let the kids jump on the couch. Turn on the Curious George DVD (playing all 6 episodes of course). Surf the internet. Daydream while looking through a JCrew catalogue. Get your mind out of the game for a minute. Pull out a frozen lasagna. (HMMMMM.) Go for a walk with your babies. Run away with them to a museum. Come home. Bedtime. Glass of wine. Start over again tomorrow.

Remember, YOU are the best mommy for your kids. So don’t forget who that you is! (preaching to self here, insert smiley face guy)


Next up: Eh not sure yet. I will surprise you. I am sure you are all aquiver with excitement….