Mom·day
noun: Momday; plural noun: Momdays
A Momday is an atrocious, awful, dreadful, lousy, rough, sad, garbage, disheveled, messy, made me wonder why I had kids, kind of a day.
I've had to microwave the same cup of coffee 9 times because one kid is covered in poop and the other is having a meltdown because her toy won't stand up by itself. Just another Momday.
See also bad day, mom life, whose kids are these?, where’s my wine? where’s my bigger wine glass? Does wine come in an easy spout keg?
I want to take the stigma out of moms having to look like they have got everything under control, while simultaneously looking like a super model, with perfectly quaffed hair and a banging body. I am certainly not like that. Why is there such a need to put on a front that we have such a perfect life and got everything going for us? When in reality, life is messy, sticky, and not always amaze balls! Mom life isn't suppose to be perfect, with a beautifully clean house, and always showered, looking runway ready. Momdays isn't about complaining that I can't handle the life as a mom of 2. I'm here to make fun of the chaos, the mess, and the tantrums. Showing others, the real life of a Mom.
Whether you have one. two or more, having kids is a sure fire way to screw up your efficiency at life. Kids do not give a shit whether you are on time for an appointment or a lunch date. Somehow, they care about the antithesis of whatever your objective may be. No matter what you are doing that day, or how frequently you do it. I know your kid wants to do anything but that. Even if it's a fun activity that they want to do, or dare I say, even suggested. I guarantee you, they will give you some shit and resistance when the time comes to head out the door. I fondly call this, a Momday. Similar to a Monday. The day no one enjoys, or may even despise. But a Momday can happen any day of the week. It is non discriminatory. Anyone can have a Momday, at any time. That is the beauty amongst the bullshit. You may think that you are the only one who can't seem to get things in order, but the truth is, no one really has their shit together!
Momdays is a worldwide epidemic. I, as it turns out, have become extremely well versed in this shit storm. Having two kids, really opened my eyes! I was okay, I suppose, when it was just Zoe. Especially when she was a baby, who just laid in state while I put her clothes on. But the second kid really put the 'shit' in shit storm. By no means, is my blitzkrieg of clust-fuckery, Everett's or Zoe's fault. But really, it is!!! I will be ready to go out, and they decide to throw a shit in the works! Literally! Everett will suddenly poop his diaper! Or Zoe will suddenly need to go potty, so we don't have to stop on the side of the road and use her little training seat. *side note, any other parents say "potty" instead of "bathroom" or "washroom" like normal adults in a situation that doesn't warrant the use of the word "potty"?* No matter the prep time I put into leaving the house, the kids will figure out a way to make it a near mission impossible. Only you know Tom Cruise isn't going to break through and repel from the ceiling and save the day.
For some reason, the kids flex their stubbornness the most, when we are heading out the door. The most stressful part of the day, is getting three humans looking presentable for the public. So I don't appear to be neglecting the kids, because they have cereal stuck in their hair, or some sort of food on their shirt, because honestly who needs a napkin, when my shirt wipes ketchup off my cheek just as well. If they do end up having food on their person somewhere, which they always do, I usually don't notice until well into the day, "maybe I have a spare shirt in the diaper bag?" Nope, you used the spare shirt yesterday and didn't replace it!!! But say, in a perfect world, their clothes are as clean as they were out of the laundry basket, because, let's be honest, I haven't folded and put their laundry away. Now the fight is on about what shoes, or jacket, to wear. My advice to you, when it comes to appropriate outdoor fashion, give them two choices that suit your vision. Offer two coat choices, they think they are making big kid decisions, while secretly, you're just trying to get them out of the f-ing house!! Zoe is catching onto my games though, so she will choose option #3 that is not seasonally appropriate but by this point of our journey, I say "YA FINE WHATEVER LET'S JUST GO!!!"
We see the fight take to the streets, with meltdowns over the little things. The littles don't care where they are when they decide to blow their lids! Doesn't matter if it's the mall, local grocery store, or even in the indoor playgrounds, where you naively assumed you had the upper hand. Kids would just naturally be happy, surrounded by their own kind. Having fun in the disease filled ball pits, exercising their throwing skills they cannot practice at home with Great Grandma's picture frame. But alas, quite the opposite. Almost like being surrounded by other rowdy tiny humans is where they get their super human tantrum strength. Then you are left standing, surrounded by strange kids, and your toddler having a category 5 meltdown over they're sock being on the wrong way. You believe all the other parents are staring and judging you for not putting the fashionistas sock on correctly. "oh my gosh, doesn't she know how to put socks on?"
By bedtime, the kids are snugly tucked away in their beds, dreaming of new ways to stymie my efforts at being the perfect housewife and mother. I am aware that my shit will never come together in peace and harmony, and forge forward to defeat the Momday entirely. But then it dawns on me, I am okay that I am not perfect. I don't have the perfect bod, or the perfect hair. But my kids think I'm comfy, and my hair is as long, and as beautiful as Rapunzel's. I am here to peel away the social veil of Mom's got it all together! We don't!!! I don't!! But I push through the snotty tantrums, the kicks and punches, the screams and cries. I know that these behaviours are not the norm and will not repeat tomorrow. My kids feel safe to be vulnerable and have emotional outbursts, knowing I will be there to help them through. So as long as there are smiles on their faces, and giggles in their belly, I will gladly fight the Momday fight.
Comentarios