Didn’t you get the
memo? Motherhood is glamorous. I’m sure by now you’ve all seen the photos of
Princess Kate in her high heels and panty hose with perfectly coiffed hair mere
hours after her delivery and I’m equally sure that you’re all sick of bloggers
ranting about it. But come on—I wasn’t
even able to stand upright unassisted eight hours after my last delivery and no
amount of professional makeup artists could’ve crammed my swollen feet into
flip flops, let alone high heels, that day.
And panty hose? I’m now 2+ years
post partum and still wouldn’t wear those unless you paid me. A lot.
But I digress…
I imagine a lot of
you, like me, once envisioned yourself in some glamorous job. As a child, I wanted to be Madonna (not the Christian
version, the pop star/stripper one). My
five year old wants to be a professional dancer (she claims ballerina but
watching her move I have suspicions she too would be more talented at the
stripper variety). Lots of little kids I
talk to want jobs where they explore outer space, dive to the depths of the
ocean, travel the world, or star in movies.
And most preschool girls still seem to want to be a princess when they
grow up. Not sure if we should blame
Kate or Disney for that one. All of
these career aspirations have one thing in common—they’re all pretty
glamorous.
I predict the
majority of these kids will someday abandon these dreams for less glamorous
jobs—sales people, lawyers, accountants, nurses, etc. I bet at some point, many of these little
girls will undertake the least glamorous job out there—motherhood. If you think motherhood is glamorous, you’ve
obviously never wiped another human’s butt, caught vomit in your bare hands, or
scraped someone else’s boogers off of your purse at the end of the day. With Mother’s Day looming in the near future,
I started thinking about this after a conversation with my sweet, thoughtful
husband. Here’s how that dialogue went:
Husband: For Mother’s Day, I decided we are
going to do something special for you every day of the month.
Me: That
sounds awesome.
Husband: Great. Some days, we’ll get you flowers, other days,
a sweet note, or chocolates, or…
Me: Sorry to interrupt…but
am I allowed to give suggestions? What
if, instead of picking up flowers on your way home, you swing by Target and
grab a bottle of dishwasher detergent?
And the next time Katherine tries to change her own diaper—you can clean
up the aftermath. Actions speak louder
than words, so that would be way more powerful than a note of
appreciation. And chocolates? What if you address the kids’ random
mid-dinner requests one evening so I can sit the entire meal instead?
I think my response
surprised him, because he was envisioning this glamorous and romantic TV-style
Mother’s Day where my perfectly coordinated children surround me with tokens of
love and I’m swept off my feet by his traditional gestures of love. But the reality of my Mother’s Day is that I’ll
probably look like a sleep-deprived pregnant lady whose hairbrush went missing
days ago and my kids will all be wearing mismatched dresses with random stains
and equally iffy-looking hairdos. And I’m
okay with that, because my life isn’t glorious.
It’s a lot of dirty diapers, dirty laundry, dirty dishes, dirty
bedrooms, dirty floors, and overflowing trash cans. There’s nothing glamorous about finding a
cheerio in your bra at the end of the day and struggling to determine how long
it’s been there or where it originated.
There’s nothing glamorous in packing lunchboxes every morning only to unpack
them each evening. And there’s
definitely nothing glamorous about scrubbing out the potty chair after every
tedious attempt by your toddler.
But despite the
total lack of glamour in motherhood, it’s definitely full of glory, and I
think, in the end, that’s what we all really wanted when we wished to be
princesses or pirates. Seeing the look
on your toddler’s face when the pee actually goes INTO the potty for the first
time is truly glorious. Knowing that you
are the only person who can make your preschooler feel better after she runs
into the wall for the fourth time is a glorious feeling. And nothing is more glorious than your first
grader patting your belly and reading the new baby Goodnight Moon.
So if you’re
celebrating you tomorrow on Mother’s Day, don’t get hung up on the lack of
Kate-style glamour in your day. Just
appreciate the glory, and try to sneak away long enough for a nap.
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