A very scary photo of my day planner and me . . .
So we started school last week.
I say “we” because while I don’t attend school anymore, I am very much an active participant in all things school. I know you are as well. All mothers are.
We are the leaders of “Beat the Clock” in the morning, the chauffeurs, the homework enforcers, and the ones who says things like “No, you cannot play at 7 p.m. even though it looks like it’s 4 p.m. outside because you have school tomorrow.”
We ask questions like “Do you have your gym shoes?” and “Did you pick a snack from the snack drawer?”
We remember that the oldest has a field trip this week, the middleman starts football, and the youngest just goes along for the ride until September 2 – the day his preschool begins.
We hold jumbles of numbers within the confines of our mommy brains that would baffle even the most advanced of mathematicians.
17 1/2 by 30 is the dress shirt size. 050 is the three digit code on the back of the card. Our group plan is YN8763. There are too many phone numbers to even begin to list and they coexist in old filing cabinets of my mind that contain my very first phone number as well as my grandmother’s (who passed away 16 years ago) and other useless numerical information that could have been dumped long ago but for some unexplained reason, continues to linger.
Which leads me to wonder . . .
Why on earth can I not remember to send the shoes my husband ordered two months ago back to Zappos? Why is it so hard to remember to return an email from last week that needed a response? Why do I feel like such a dingbat on most days?
Why does my husband call me Dory? (The forgetful fish from “Finding Nemo”)
You want to know why?
Because it’s pretty freaking crowded in there. And it’s pretty freaking crowded in your brain too, sister.
I know this because you and I talk about it. At the grocery store. Church. In the halls of preschool and during pick-up and drop-off.
We laugh at our mommy brains yet deep down, we wonder if we will ever be the same.
And the answer, of course, is no. We won’t be.
But while we won’t necessarily have the uncluttered brain we once possessed in our youth, our lives are filled up with way more than they were once upon a time when our families were just glimmers in our young and naive eyes.
Instead of days that were once all about me and what I wanted to do, I now have days that pretty much center around everyone else. And no, it’s not always fun. But whoever said the mama is the pulse of the family nailed it.
The pulse that keeps the family alive is YOU, mama. Mommy brain and all.
In other words, you once gave life and you CONTINUE to give life.
When I look at mothering through this lens, I just want to rally us all together and have a giant pep rally because sisters . . .
We. Rock. Oh yes we do.
We may be a little dingier but there are few who can pull-off the signing of a permission slip while on the phone with the husband while cooking dinner, feeding the dog, and mediating an argument among siblings.
So while there are days when I long for an afternoon to just come home after work, read People magazine, take a nap, and then go out to dinner, I wouldn’t trade it for the very different one I reside in now.
At least I think that’s what I used to do before I had kids.
I can’t remember.