Are You Mom Enough Or Honest Enough
Breastfeeding Mom On Time Magazine
I should have probably titled this ‘Attack Of The Attachment Parenting Mom Bloggers’ because if they ever read my dribble, they are likely to jump me in a dark alley. And heck yeah, I waited a good two (3?) weeks to say this. Let the ruckus die down a bit and then stir the pot as I so often do. (pay attention to me me me)
Let me start by saying… I AM NOT AGAINST BREASTFEEDING! I even tried it with my first little crotch monkey. In 1987. When I was 18. It wasn’t a ‘thing’ to be a teenage mom back then let alone whip the boob out (in public!! sshhhh) And there was that whole ‘the kid is going to starve with what I’m making’ going on. Just wasn’t feeling it, ya know? No, this is not about breastfeeding at all. Feed on milkers!
As a psych major, I am all for the attachment theory itself. I firmly believe in a child’s need to form healthy, lasting attachments for socio-emotional development and well-being. I have a 5 year old grandson over here who suffers from a wealth of issues because mommy AND daddy were absent and left him on our doorstep. Story for another day.
What I want to know is this. For the love of Jose Quervo, why would you want your 3 year old still latched on? He has teeth! Those things hurt! Do you send him off to play dates and come in right before cookie time? How does that work?
Also! (here’s where the going get tough or the tough get going)
Co-sleeping. I mean COME ON! I just can not understand why anyone would want the karate kid busting out at you in the middle of the night!?!? Because of the slightly touched upon crap parents Ethan has, he’s scared to death to sleep alone and usually ends up in our bed at some point. When Grandpa’s away at work, I fully admit to caving and just letting him crawl in my bed. It’s way easier than the back and forth to your own bed dance. We chit-chat, he tells me his secrets…. even twirls my hair until he’s asleep. Sweet, right? Hell no! That sweet talking, hair twirler breaks out his best kung-fu skills and practices on my face, ribs and back All.Night.Long. We play Fight Club Twister with just the three of us. How does that work out for you when you have more than one small fry? OH! Right. The first rule of fight club is don’t talk about fight club. It doesn’t work out for you. You get up and drag off to the couch with a blankie trailing behind you looking like Linus from an old Charlie Brown cartoon. Mom enough or honest enough?
Baby Wearing. Really? Really?? I’ll give you a freebie. Newborns smell awesome! I could hold them all day. But a 6 month old who just crapped right through that cloth diaper and it’s now running down his leg and your tummy? No thanks. How much Advil do you pop to stop that back from aching? Have you become all suburban and switched to Vicodin by the time that sweet smelling newborn is now a 25lb 11 month old kicking and screaming to get the heck down and crawl? What do you do if you have twins? Double kangaroo-pack thingys? One for the front guy and one for the poor kid who’s going to be looking at your sweaty neck all day? Because, let’s face it, it must be hot as watching my beloved Tim McGraw dance on a waffle iron wearing those kids! (story for another day) And how do YOU poop? Do you do some sort of circus clown juggling type act? If yes, don’t tell me what happens when it’s time to wipe. There’s going to come a day when you have 4 kids and all their friends piled in the bathroom asking for snacks while you’re sitting on the crapper. Yes, that totally happened. Why push it? Enjoy your alone time! Just thinking about having someone attached to me All.Day.Long makes me a little twitchy. STOP TOUCHING ME!!! That’s not something you can really say to 4 kids after all those years of having them hang on you because YOU wanted them to now is it? Trust me, you will want to say that. A Lot! Don’t think you won’t want to crawl out the fire escape and run away to find your happily ever after that somehow became a butt wiping, sweaty, karate chopping filled life with some puke on the side. Still sound like such a romantic idealized agenda you want to participate in? Me either. Mom enough or honest enough?
Here’s how our life went… kinda. Maybe. OK, it did… don’t judge.
Sometimes, my kids made me so crazy I wanted to toss them out with the trash. Instead. I locked all 4 outside in the middle of a hot summer day once while they were playing. We lived in Arizona. The desert. 120*. What? The hose was right there. They sat on the porch looking at me from the sliding glass doors threatening to run away to wherever ‘CPS’ lived and tell on me. Then they sang ‘On The Road Again’ Over and Over. Laughing. I caved and let them in to shut them up.
When they spend 25 minutes naked in the shower square dancing, singing Old Dan Tucker and watching themselves in the mirror; I secretly hoped they’d fall. Just so they would get a mild concussion and forget the words to that song.
Our youngest son’s two favorite songs used to be Happy girl (Martina McBride) and I Love This Bar (Toby Keith) He sang them in the grocery store check-out line. People thought we were freaks. I bought him candy one day if he would be quiet. When we got to the car, I ate it. I deserved it.
When they were in middle school I enjoyed shouting across an aisle or two if they had enough condoms. My daughters ducked and hid when I yelled if their tampon supply had run low and if XXX super absorbency was still OK.
Take THAT breastfeeding mom on Time magazine cover!