Okay. So I was going to respond to each of the comments on my last post, but I’m so smitten with you readers that I have to devote an entire post to singing your praises.
You people are fucking rad. Period.
I started this blog in January because I wanted to know if there were other mothers out there who were like me…experiencing motherhood like I always have. You know, just a little off…a little different…the black sheep at the mother’s group…well intentioned, in love with the offspring, trying hard but clueless, and seeming to do it all wrong, most of the time – not feeling the Hallmark card Lifetime movie Babycenter What-to-Expect-When-You’re-Expecting, ain’t this grand mainstream mothering vibe. I needn’t go on. You get me.
Because for so long I just thought there was something really wrong with me. (And there is. Duh. But not in the way I once suspected.) But eventually, after growing up a bit (translation: not being 22, which is how old I was when my first kid was born), and having three kids (which gave me a little confidence), I realized the following: I am not a bad person or a psycho (and there’s no way I’m dumber than the general population), and YET, most of this mainstream motherhood crap DRIVES ME BATSHIT INSANE and has NO RESEMBLANCE to my daily experience of motherhood.
Therefore, perhaps there are other mothers out there who feel the same way.
Let’s check it out.
So I started writing. And I started telling the truth. The real deal, as I saw it.
And though I started like some brave renegade pioneer, there have been times when I was so full of fear writing this stuff I almost didn’t publish it. Because posting something means “owning” it – there’s no denying it then. I can’t deny it to you, but more importantly, I can’t deny it to ME. And that’s the harder part. It makes it so real. It’s one thing to live something. It’s another thing to squarely face – openly admit – that which I’m living – the person I ACTUALLY am as opposed to the person I THINK I am – or the person I want YOU to think I am. That kind of honesty just lays me out. Bare. It’s not really that easy for me, though I do it with startling regularity. Maybe it’s simpler for other people.
And the last one I wrote was a tough one – I mean shit, admitting you can’t stand playing with your kids is not exactly a winning moment. (Charlie Sheen, who is obviously over-flowing with winning moments, would not be impressed.)
But I hit “publish” anyway. I throw myself out there and hope for the best.
And every damn time I do, I am amazed, straight SHOCKED by the incredible responses I get. The truth and the bravery I get RIGHT BACK, by you. Now, I’m sure there are women out there who come across this blog and say to themselves “This woman should lose her parental rights (and so should those crazy commenters!). Good God who admits this stuff? What an awful specimen of a mother!” and then they journey on to the happy flowers scrap-booking blog…and I send them my blessing. Lucky you, lady, you got it dialed. Maybe in my next life, I’ll have it dialed too.
But enough about them.
Let’s talk about you. Who knew there were so many badass women out there, perfectly willing to lay it on the line and tell it like it is…? Giving a beautiful, raging middle finger to that stereotypical motherhood bullshit …
And helping me. So much.
I just want to thank you. At the risk of sounding horribly clichéd, I must say, your comments help me see things in a new way, encourage me to write, help me feel okay about myself. As a mother. As a person.
I didn’t expect that.
Particularly with this last post…your comments floored me. I’ve reread each one and been thinking about each of them (because this inability-to-play thing has been bothering me for a long time – like years). But on the way home from work today, as I was reflecting on the things you all wrote, I suddenly realized that I don’t have to play board games or dolls or whatever with my kids to demonstrate my love, devotion and concern. I can stop feeling guilty about it, I can abandon the whole futile effort and just do it in other ways – ways that I’m good at. Ways that I enjoy.
And it’ll be alright. And they’ll be alright. And even I will be alright.
Ain’t it fucking grand?
Why yes. It is.
And I’m not the only one. People, even non-mothers, have asked me where I ‘found’ you badass women…how I got to ‘know’ so many smart, honest, strong females…how they simply LOVE the comments on my blog, and actually subscribe to the comment RSS feeds (which is weird, given the depth of stupidity usually found among humans on the internet). And I don’t know what to say, because I’m just as smitten and amazed as they are.
So here’s to you, ladies.
And now, in your honor, I shall share with you the MOST PERFECT IMAGE OF MOTHERHOOD I have ever, ever, ever come across. I’ve been waiting for just the right moment. This is obviously it.
[For some reason it’s showing up blurry, but if you click on it, it’s not. Whatever. Fucking technology.]