(You don’t really need to see my FACE do you? Oh, ok, fine…)
I’m a master overthinker, pro-question asker, and an obsessor of living in the moment.
I am not anything so exciting. You won’t weep or cheer over my story. I have not been to hell and back nor am I climbing toward an impossible peak. But I am Real. And although I don’t have a STORY to tell. I have stories to tell. Stories that have made ME weep. Have made ME laugh until my sides, toes and hair follicles hurt.
My unique stories are those of wanting desperately to live in the moment. To open my eyes and see what is developing, blooming, and amazing Today. I am scared to death of missing something. Of being so focused on mothering Right that I miss Mothering.
I was lost before I found this place. Alone. Felt thrown into a world of stay at home motherhood that I was totally unprepared for. I had few local friends to call and cry to. Or with. I felt suddenly surrounded by overachieving, competitive moms who forced me to retreat further inside my head. My kids were looking to me to make them feel warm, safe and comforted when I myself felt none of these things. Yes, I have a husband. A doting, loving, husband, but one that is not HERE in most of the hours that I need him here. A husband who hasn’t walked in my shoes. Trendy shoes that used to carry me into my work office and are now comfortable and playground appropriate, but oh so not chic. And I still struggle daily with how to feel a Part of Something.
I am not a writer. I do not have thousands of followers. More like dozens. But they have filled my void. THIS has filled my void. I now have a home for my musings, my wonderings, my obsessions. And I feel normal, welcomed and loved for saying them.
I am self deprecating. I will tell you I suck at being a mom. That I don’t set enough limits. I give too many chances. I want to be my kids’ friend more than their mom. That I believe I’m secretly being filmed for The Nanny show based on the tantrums I’ve endured. I admit I cry. In front of my kids. Because I don’t know what else to do.
Instead of a hero, I’m just a mom. A mom that feels like a girl in a mom’s costume. A girl who has so many stories to tell… and I do in a voice that I believe many can relate to. And this show, this REALITY show should have a mom on a journey that represents what REALLY goes on in so many houses, just like mine. Where we, as moms, are lost and confused, and looking for a manual to tell us how to do it Right.
If there even is a Right way to do it.
This post was my entry for Project Momcasting. Because, well, a girl can dream of being on TV even at my old age, right? Below is the link for more info. But please don’t now go and submit your unbelievably inspiring, heart wrenching, beautifully written or hysterical entry because then YOU’LL get on the show and I won’t and I’ll have something else to obsess about… But go read the other entries because truly, they are AMAZING. And my vote goes to Heather at The Extraordinary Ordinary.