There are many things I knew I was giving up to be a mom. Things like the dream of living in a small one bedroom condo in the city across from the theatre. Or sleep and a vacation home in Barbados. Okay, I never had a vacation home in Barbados but I’m pretty sure that Barbados is out of the picture. Let me tell you about some of the unknown sacrifices that I willingly (and mostly happily) make for you.
in no particular order
Going pee first. Yes, my sacrifice to you, is that I will hold it so you can go first. You might not think it’s a big one, but it’s paramount. It might be right up there with getting a good night’s sleep, well when I’ve really got to go. Today I realized that it is one of the unspoken rules of motherhood. It doesn’t matter that I’ve had 4 cups of coffee and a Big Gulp and you’ve already gone 8 times this morning, the moment I have to go, you amazingly have to go too. As we rush into the bathroom and I do the potty dance, crossing my legs, squeezing my knees together and practicing some kegels like my life dependeded on it, I let you and your small bladder go first. This involves laying of toilet paper and paper toilet seats or even lifting the seats. It may involve wiping your adorable hiney. And let me tell you, the sound of you tinkling doesn’t make the situation any easier. I’d like to knock you out of the way and pee like a race horse, but I don’t I let you go first. You’re welcome.
The last bite. Who knew that being a mom would be like constantly being surrounded by a pack of vultures. The moment I sit down to eat in peace, there one of you. The cookie I tuck into the back of the pantry seems to be sniffed out as if you are all part blood hound. When I’ve slowly savored every bite of my dessert one of you looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes and there goes the last bite. I fully expect to be reimbursed when you all become my grown children. I want cheesecakes and chocoloate fudge brownies and tirimisu. I’m resolved though that by that time I’ll be giving the last bite to your children. Maybe I will institute a no family Tuesday afternoon where I will eat all of the last bites.
Watching a tv show all the way through. Unless it’s animated, I have given up watching anything worthwhile while any of you are around. For the love of the silver screen, why can’t you guys be quite and sit still?
Personal space. I knew I’d loose my personal space, but I didn’t quite understand what this meant. It means being woken up with a nose literally milimeters from mine. It means fingers under the bathroom door while I’m just trying to find a moments peace. Or being used like a jungle gym, security screen and even a human shield during a nerf gun fight.
The bikini. 5 babies, two of them sharing my womb together have greatly scarred my belly. I know there is the picture going around that there is beauty in my scarred belly. It’s a testimony of my love to you. I willingly sacrifice everything I have to be your mother, including my body. Though it may be figuratively beautiful because it symbolizes my love for you. It symbolizes the bond which no one can break. Yet, it will never be bikini worthy again. No amount of dieting, stretch mark cream or lotion can resurrect it to its prebaby beatuy. For all of our sakes, the bikini must be sacrificed. Also, see the abandoned dream of a vacation home in Barbados. What is Barbados minus the bikini.
I’m sure that there are more, hundreds more. Just know that I love you. Even with all of the millions of ways that parenting sucks, I’m still glad I’m a parent.
Thats why I eat cake in my bedroom with the door LOCKED!
This never works for me. It kinda turns into a little bit of what I imagine the zombie apocolypse will be like. Hands banging at the door, whinning and moaning.
So true. I imagine myself as Golem from LOTR, watching the TV late in the dark, subtitles on, fiendishly unwrapping Halloween candy only to hear the bedroom door open. I probably look like Golem to my kids at that point….
Haha!