Please bare with me on this post, it is going to be
a ramble.
This year I became something I swore I would not
become. I became one of those moms. You know, the ones that scream for their kids
when they are in an athletic event. I
became a wrestling mom to a scrappy 6-year old boy. That is right, the Boychild is
wrestling. So, I support him 150%. I am that crazy lady hollering for him to do
his best. Hollering for him to give it his
all, to not give up, for the other player to earn their points and pin. I jump up and down when he scores
points.
Notice above there that I am not hollering for him
to win. I am not hollering at him if he
makes a “mistake.” I am not hollering against
the other 6 year old wrestler. I am
hollering for my child and for him to give his 100% at what he is doing.
It hit me this weekend that the last 6 months have
changed the dynamic between my children and me.
The last 6 months have changed the dynamic between my husband and
myself. The reason is, I killed Super
Mom. The Bitch is dead and disposed of
in Lake Berkley. I was the Super
Volunteer! I was Mrs. Can’t Say No. I was to show my kids what a woman with a
outside of the house career should be like.
I was trying to be everything to everyone else, but myself and my
family. I wanted to show the Girlchild
what a strong woman does. In September,
all the balls I had been juggling started to crash around my head. I had a breakdown. It took my husband and parents stepping into
the mess for me to finally realized how
over extended I was. I realized I had lost
focus. My kids didn’t want Super
Mom. They just wanted Mom. They wanted plain old Me.
So, I killed Super Mom! I buried the crazy lady that needed to be
involved in everything, volunteering for everything, doing everything, and was getting
nothing accomplished. I found a new way
to be the strong female role model my kids needed. I became just Mom. I became the lady that just sits and cuddles-
I have no where more important to be. I
became the mom that colors and plays school.
These things may sound like they should have been happening all
along. But, they were not. I was letting the most important things
slide. My career now takes backseat to
my “salon” time at the House of Girlchild.
My volunteer activities no longer interfere with saving the Lego City in
the Boychild’s room. My outside activities
are second to the time I spend with my husband.
I am happy to report that my career has not suffered. My volunteer activities are fewer in number
but more meaningful. My husband is no
longer second fiddle to everything else.
I took on a new title after that, Just Mom. But, after last weekend it now include the
subtext of Wrestling Mom. I want the
Boychild to win. That would be
AWESOME! But, more than that, I just
want him to give 110% of himself when he out on the mat. I want him to know how proud he makes me just
by being himself. I want the Girlchild
to know how proud I am when she doesn’t cry during a tooth extraction and when
she is just herself. I want my children
to know without a doubt that they make me proud and they are loved without me
saying it. Intil then, I will tell them
it every day. I will tell it to them in front
of friends and family. I will shout it
to the world and Facebook. I want my
kids to know that I really like who they are.
I want them to know that I enjoy their company. I cherish their insights and wisdom. I adore their innocence and the truth they
speak. I am in awe of their
curiosity. These are all the things I
lost when I was trying to be Super Mom.
These are the things I found when I became Just Mom.
Whoever said we had to have it all never tried to
have it all. Whoever said that we need
to be Super Mom needs to be kicked in the shin.
I think I can handle just being Just Mom.
I am learning the ropes as Wrestling Mom. God save me, though, the Girlchild wants to
be a cheerleader, and I may have to add the subtitle of Cheer Mom. That one may take some getting used to. I think I can do Cheer Mom; so long as Cheer
Mom reminds her daughter that Smart is better than Ditzy, Girls do math and
science, and Kindness looks best on people.
As long as Wrestling Mom doesn’t preach Winning is everything, teaches
her Boychild that losing is not failure but something to learn from, Boys do
science and math, and kindness looks best on people.
This is going to be a long and learning
journey. But, I think I can do it as
long as I remember that I need to be Just Mom.
