Three Things Moms Don’t Want to Explain
Being a mother I have had many uncomfortable encounters when people have asked me really uncomfortable questions. I try to be polite and answer these invasive questions, but really... I don’t want to and what I really want to say will end up turning into a disorderly conduct charge. So, this post is reaching out to moms who have been there and for those who feel the need to ask questions that are quite frankly none of your business. Are they All Yours? I’ve been in the grocery store checkout alone or with my husband, a park, or some kind of public place and someone always asks me if all four of my children are mine. The first thing I say is yes... but what I really want to ask them is why do you ask? Do you ask because two of my children have dark hair and the other two have blonde? Do you ask because my husband and I don’t necessarily look old enough to have four children? Or are you trying to get me to say something like “oh no I’m a private nanny and I make a ton of money baby sitting other children who sort of look like me. I get total enjoyment of chasing down kids who aren’t mine and bribing them to stay in the cart.” I mean really? Nobody in a sane mind would take four kids to the store alone if they weren’t theirs. Some people mean well, but it’s kind of a question that the answer should be assumed. Yes they’re mine. That one who is trying to jump out the cart is mine. The one whining about not getting candy is mine. The one you heard have a nervous breakdown three isles over is mine and the one who is looking through your cart is also mine. They’re mine. And then the statement follows... “you’ve got you’re hands full” Bitch I know... thank you Captain Obvious. Believe me, if I could grow an extra set of hands and day drink to get through my life I would. My hands are so full I’m tempted to ask you to take one to the car for me so I can manage to get them from the store through the parking lot without one of them running into traffic or myself into traffic. Just a word of advice to those asking this question to moms of multiples... don’t ask it.
Assume those are all their kids.
How Can You Stand to Be Away From Your Kids All Day? This makes me laugh a little. I work full time. I go to school. And I’m a mom. It’s possible. Do I like having to work? No. Nobody wants to work.
Nobody.
But how else would We afford to live?
No I don’t like how daycare pretty much raises my children.
No I don’t like missing things with my children.
Yes I would rather stay home, but I know I would slowly go insane. We all can’t be stay at home moms for financial and mental state. I’ve done the stay at home Mom thing and I could probably do it again. However, I don’t want to. I like feeling productive. Moms like to feel like they have some sort of live outside of motherhood. Some moms don’t have a fuckin choice but to work two jobs. Some moms don’t have support. You asking how they can do it is really invasive and could be an emotional question. Especially to new moms. Unfortunately most moms have to go back to work after only six weeks of maternity leave. Six weeks! It’s an emotional process to leave your baby with someone else and be away from them 8-10 hours of the day. I personally had a breakdown leaving my youngest son and going back to work, but I had to because I have other children to support.
Stop asking this question!
Just stop.
How Do You Do It? This can be a good question WILL have a long answer. We do it because we are moms and we can do anything. We can make pancakes out of three ingredients. We can get kids out the door without one dying. We can work full time jobs. We can go to school. We can manage homework. We can manage bath time. We can meal plan for months. We can go without so our kids have what they want. We can go without sleep. We can work through sickness. We can go to sporting events. We can go to birthday parties. We can do anything. But how? How do we do all these things? We don’t fuckin know. We don’t know how we do it. We don’t think about it. We just do it. Sometimes we forget things then feel like shit about it. Sometimes we make it to some place and forget something and feel like the worst mom ever.
We’re late.
We’re a mess.
We yell.
We cry.
We want to give up, but we don’t.
We answer questions we don’t want to answer.
We get stared at in public.
We go back to work.
We’re judged. Why? Because we’re fuckin moms doing the best we can.