Here I am, happy bouncy mommy, getting all excited about her shiny new Room Mother blog and the fun of playing with kids and school supplies and art projects and field trips and kids and kids and learning and books and parties and yay.
And then I think oh, people are NOT going to want to just listen to me ramble about my emoooootional journey. We needs us some original content, some infos, some relevant something or nothers on this here blog, just like the big girl bloggers. And I briefly have some ambitious notions. And then I think oops, I have five minutes before I should head to bed. I know! I'll Google!
Little did I know, this room mother thing is supposed to be fraught. It's supposed to be filled with competition and angst and comparison of self with other people. Like this poor soul. But there's a problem.... although I really, really, really want to be sensitive to the uncertainties about the path we take in life and the difficult choices that all of us mommies have to make....my problem is that I'm pretty much totally okay with me. I'm good at some stuff, great at some subset of it even, and terrible at some stuff, but I'm at peace with my choices. And I think this might render me totally screwed when it comes to relating to other parents. I think I'm supposed to feel freaky, and either tiger mom it or dwell in the dark night of the soul. All the time. No sunshine for you, momma!
I should've known this would be another battleground in the mommy wars. Remember that bumper sticker (ok, maybe you don't, because you didn't grow up in Eugene Oregon) -- "What if they had a war and nobody showed up?". If you're Martha Stewart, great, be your Martha bad self all over the place. I will sit here, cheer you on, and eat your muffins. If you're conflicted, I will sit with you and talk, we can coffee and agonize and wonder and find some peace or at least some company in each other, as long as you're okay with the fact that I'm okay. If you're a doctorlawyerpastrychef, fan-flipping-tastic, that means more muffins and you can tell me either what that rash is or who I should sue because of it. But seriously. What if we didn't show up? What if we were just okay with it all?
Eh, fine, I am not in bliss every minute of every day. I don't like feeling set up to feel awkward for who I'm not. And no, I don't want to mess up other people's sunshine, inspiring bad feelings by being "too much" or "not enough". I'll try not to be obnoxious. But sometimes I'm the mom sending my kid to preschool with half a breakfast in her hand and stains on her shirt, and sometimes I am the one with a project plan for the distribution of book orders and yummy quesadillas at the party. And while that gorgeous hand-embroidered storybook feltboard might briefly give me a flash of "eek, it's been way too long since I sewed anything"....and when you run about interrupting other people's conversations about Not You to tell them that it was soooo easy, I might just roll my eyes. But I am not going down to the mommy wars. I'm already winning by refusing to show up (nothing wrong with declaring victory and running away). Screw the guilt and the envy, live with your choices, sing in the rain, ya ya ya.