I Can Pee Standing Up

I promise I do more than just complain, but it is Christmas time and bitching seems to be a symptom of the “Most Wonderful Time of the Year”. The stress of Christmas makes it lose its luster for me. As if working, chauffeuring, homework, (trying not to neglect) the dog, husband, diapers, house work, laundry, decorations, OH! and presents (gotta remember presents) isn't enough of a headache, now I need to remember to send money for teacher gifts, class Christmas parties, gift swaps and Christmas Pageants. This cocktail of mind-numbing to-dos would cause most stay-at-home-moms to start booking for a padded room with a ruffled “hug yourself” jacket. So there aren't words to describe what it does to us working mom folk! Most working moms live with constant guilt that they aren't being there enough for their kids, especially if they grew up in a home where their mother didn't work, like I did. My mother was Iron Mom. She managed to cook, clean, spend time with us, discipline and even president the damn PTA, but she didn't have a full-time job either. I, on the other hand, can’t do any of that. Why? Because I bought into the feminist hype in my youth, that I was woman, and you WOULD hear me roar! I could do anything a man could do. I remember, back in my military days, some a-hole telling me that women couldn't pee standing up. So, we girls, sliced the bottom off of a couple of water bottles and proceeded to use them to do what? Pee standing up. With that kind of mentality at 22 years old, it set the stage for me to be a pretty independent woman.

 

Little did I know that having children would become a job that I would greatly desire and cherish. When Sissy was born, I had to keep working. So I tried my best to delude myself, and Tony,  into believing that I wouldn't have had it any other way. I made no attempt to, one day, become a stay-at-home mom. For a few years that worked for all of us, until we decided that we wanted another baby. A year later the Hurricane was born. With her birth, my desire to stay home got even greater, but it wasn't too much for me to ignore, as I still needed to keep working. Then, when the Hurricane was 2 months old, I found out that my little Bubba was on the way. He was our surprise baby boy. We were terrified and excited at the same time, but I knew this meant that I would not be able to stay home with the kids for a long time. I knew that, with three of them, all needing so much of me in their own special ways, and my failure to prepare for this day, I wouldn't be able to give them what my mom was able to give to me anytime soon. We are a modest family and we enjoy it this way, for the most part. Of course, there are times, especially at Christmas, when we have to explain to Sissy why she can’t have as much as her friends have. “I know you want a new iPod Touch for Christmas, but you lost the last one Santa brought you, so I've forbidden him from delivering you anymore technology until you show me that you will take care of it. Plus, we’re in a worldwide recession, and that includes the North Pole.”, she replies, “But I thought the elves MADE the toys.”, “That was back in the old days. It’s 2013, and Santa can’t afford to buy parts AND educate all those elves with the technological skills needed to make an iPod.”

Christmas this year has been harder for me, than any other year. I think it is because I am living with the guilt of working when I’m needed so much more by my children. I know that staying home will have its own list of headaches, which I am not even close to being accustomed to. However, it would be nice to look back on their childhood and know that they saw me, the way I always saw my own mother. We all make choices in our lives and with those choices come consequences, good and bad. I hope that I am able to teach my children to value family over themselves, because I didn't do that and am paying the price as we speak. The choices we make effect every aspect of our futures. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best, is a good motto. Instead of spending so much time trying to convince myself, and others, that I wanted to keep working, I should have started preparing an “out” plan for me, should I decide to stay home one day, but I didn't want anyone to know that the idea of staying home with my kids had ever crossed my mind. So the moral of this blog post, though I know it has taken a sharp turn from complaining to self reflection, don’t try to keep up false appearances. The older I get, the more I realize that it doesn't matter what other people think because nothing is ever quite as it seems on the surface.

So Merry Christmas to all of my wonderful friends and family, working moms and stay-at-home moms, husbands and kiddos! May you all be honest with yourselves and remember: 

“Being happy doesn't mean everything’s perfect. It means you've decided to see beyond the imperfections.”