If you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!

- Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

June, Martha, and Joan

By describing myself as a mediocre mother, in no way am I insinuating that there are not moments of mommy brilliance in my days; on the contrary, I often channel June and Martha with the best of them; but there are times, Ms. Crawford whispers enthusiastically in my ear. My child is clean, healthy, fed, well educated, and gets more time and attention from me than many children get from their moms; but in the hair pulling moments when I am sleep deprived, aggravated, and franticly bored with my mundane existence, I just want the little booger to leave me alone!

Welcome to my confessions of a mediocre mom! Who am I? No one, just some kid’s mom who needs to vent openly and honestly about this wild rollercoaster ride called motherhood. Don’t get me wrong, I love my son more than words could ever begin to describe. My life revolves around obsessing over his every waking moment. Is he happy, healthy, and challenged enough or too much? Is he in the right school, do I feed him enough veggies? Do I hug him enough or coddle too much? OMG! The continuously neurotic chatter in my mind never stops. Please join me on this fabulous journey; laugh with me, cry with me, and hopefully realize that June, Martha, and Joan all were mediocre at best, okay a bit nutty too; but then aren’t we all?

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