Let me preface this all by saying I have not read the entire book yet. It should come with a small pamphlet:
Creating Time to Read with Kids at Home or
How to read by flashlight in a locked linen closest
Who am I kidding? We don’t have a linen closet. I’ll take a set of queen size flannel sheets with a side of dog hair and dust, thank you very much.
Where was I? Ah, yes, Babyproofing Your Marriage. I have to say, the first chapter, along with 8 or 10 terms I looked up in the back of the book, sounded like I was taking to myself. Neglected hubby? Frazzled self? Double check.
The book is written in a very easy to read (Read speed skimming while making sure the toddler doesn’t suffocate the baby or scoop “the potty” from the dog’s ass with a teaspoon which will later be returned to the silverware drawer with us big people none the wiser.) When I was pregnant I read the Jenny McCarthy book (How about we leave some things sacred? Dads don’t need to know about the “river of discharge” Jen!) and The Girlfriend’s Guide to Pregnancy (Great, but it isn’t a foregone conclusion that your breasts will become knee dusters.) This book is somewhere slightly above those as far as not making me embarrassed to share passages with my husband and communicating at higher than a 7th grade reading level(However stay tuned, because like I said, I haven’t read the whole thing yet.)
It was pretty incredible to turn the pages nodding and feeling like, you know what? Maybe I’m not so alone. A wonderful mom I recently met online wrote an absolutely incredible post about the moments as moms that we are not proud of. Her words slipped around me and I felt safe, understood and forgiven. This being a mom isn’t always easy, and forgiving ourselves for the moments when we crack is at times nearly impossible.
Knowing that it may take me until the girls hit elementary school to finish the book, I am gleaning from the sweet morsels that I am able to read as much as I can. Today it is the knowledge that sometimes what really needs to happen is a little momproofing. A little bit of saying that it’s ok for me to take a night at the gym. It’s ok to not color and paint with Briar every time that she asks. It’s normal to flinch when a razor sharp baby nail slices through the inside of my lower lip while 5 little teeth dig into my breast. That doesn’t make me a bad mom. And it’s ok to want to be with Sean, or by myself, or sailing away on a hot pink mattress into the setting son of Fiji. I’ll put out there right now that if anyone wants to send me to Fiji I’ll make myself available.
Barring a free trip to Fiji, I’ll continue to find solace in things like great mom blogs and books authored by other moms who aren’t afraid to say it can be tough.
Oh, and let’s nopt forget little things like your 2.5 turning to you and looking at up at you with wides eyes the color of frozen lake water on a sunny day and saying,
Hey mama? Could you give ma favor?
Sure baby, what’cha need?
Ah, mama? I love you. Could you give me a hug?
Pinch me now I live with angels.