The blogosphere is heavily populated with mommas these days. Don’t believe me? Google mom blogger and see how many hits you get. Astounding isn’t it? We’re everywhere, touting our super-human mommy strength and unprecedented multi-tasking abilities. We’re sharing favorite crock-pot recipes and crafty DIY projects. We’re narrating parenting horror stories, from toddler tantrums to teen troubles. We’re sharing tips and tricks about potty training, bedtime routines, homework survival and more.
This subculture has three main categories: There are the stay-at home-moms (SAHM), the work-from-home-moms, and the professional moms. And we all talk about how we can do everything a man can do, and more, only it’s one handed and without complaining, and all before the casserole is finished baking. Shew-wee! There are even boastful quotations floating about, such as “I’m a mom, what’s your superpower?” Now don’t get me wrong, I dig the mommy empowerment schtick as much as the next Super-Mom. And I love how being Zac’s mother makes me feel like the most special person in the whole world, at least to one person. I just wonder how many of us take a good, honest look at the things that we can’t do because we are moms…
Now that I’m a mommy, I can’t:
sleep past 7:30 am (without the guilts.)
spend $100 on a pair of shoes for myself, just because.
enjoy a second cup of coffee.
sneeze three times without trouble.
have my own beverage.
watch an entire movie at home.
eat my dinner sitting down.
put knives in the dishwasher.
milk a hangover in peace.
have an uninterrupted phonecall.
cuss without spelling.
go to the beach (or pool, or boat dock, or anyplace with water deeper than a thimble) with my family and actually RELAX.
go into Walmart™ or Target™ for just one thing. (Oh who am I kidding, I could never do that anyway.)
So as it turns out, there are a lot of things this “super-momma” can’t do these days. But for every obstacle or hindrance that accompanies parenthood, there are sweet, sleepy snuggles and sloppy goodnight kisses. There are magical Christmas mornings and countless silly stories to read. And there’s a sticky little hand that just wants to hold mine. So I’m okay with it.