Skip to main content

The Incredible Mom



When my brother Jared was a kid he had a stretch Hulk doll. You could pull on any part of his body, head, neck, arms, legs, torso. You could twist him into knots and throw him against the wall and he'd bounce off before thudding to the ground. Jared tested the Hulk's limits on a frequent basis, and abused the doll for his personal amusement. One day the Hulk had been stretched an inch too long and he ripped in half. Even the special elastic action of the incredible Hulk could not withstand the constant stretching and repeated abuse of an active child.

Lately I've been feeling a lot like the little guy. While I don't turn green and grow tremendously large muscles when I'm mad, I do feel like I'm being pulled in just about every direction possible and I'm worried that my fate is going to be similar: ripped in half and left in the trash as nothing more than a fallen hero.

For much of my life I've been able to choose where to focus my energy. Most of the time it has been in school or in doing something fun. I'm a decent multi-tasker so adding work and a serious relationship didn't have a significant impact on my lifestyle and for a time it may have even energized me. Time was on my side in those days. I did what I needed and wanted to do and I did it completely. Why run 2 miles when you can do 10? Why work during the week when you can work on the weekend, too?

Now, I run from one place to another exasperated and frustrated. At work, I pull Caroline's hair ties from my pocket and think about the fact that someone I don't really know spends more time with my baby than I do. At home, I pull out the "work-to-do" folder from my purse but I'm too tired after putting Caroline to bed to think about work. On the post-work drive I think about how nice it will be to catch up on the day with Andy, but by the time we are both home and not occupied with household duties and Caroline care, we are either too exhausted to talk or too worried about work to relax and have fun.

It takes me six months to send a thank you card and my biggest efforts in maintaining friendships are writing one liners on people's facebook walls or sending text messages. That 10 mile run has become 2, so why does it feel like I'm running a marathon each day?

I wish I had more time and more energy to be a better friend, a better mom, a better wife and better employee. But, I don't. I'm not elastic and I don't stretch very well. Yet, I'm just not sure how to do all it. We all have our limits and I'm still testing mine. So, if you see parts of me in the trash can, please don't throw me away. I've bought some super glue and I'd like for you to try to glue me back together. Maybe then I'll finally learn my lesson that it's better not to stretch oneself too thin.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Charlotte's Story

What can you do in seventeen minutes? Watch an episode of your favorite sitcom without commercials? Run two miles at a good clip? Eat a meal, or in Andy's case, microwave a meal and then eat it? Have a baby? Because that's what I did. You heard me right. I birthed a baby in seventeen minutes because I am a machine. I am a machine ! I am a baby birthing woman of steel. I am not much of a bragger and you may recall that I was never good and never bad at anything. I have no particular achievements to tout, academically, physically, professionally or otherwise except baby birthing. I'm really good at this and I'm pretty darn proud of it and I'd like to brag about it to you now. This is Charlotte's birth story. For the first four or five months of my pregnancy with Charlotte, most people forgot that I was even pregnant. This does happen to you with multiple pregnancies. I never forgot that I was pregnant. Morning sickness heart burn and frequent bathroom t

Spoiler Alert!

It's no big shock that I opened my mouth and got myself in trouble earlier this week. This time it was my virtual mouth, and we all know that can be the worst. Saying something stupid, online, is like spreading a highly contagious virus. Speaking of which, with all of my recent coughing and sneezing, I've been really good at spreading a germy virus around. I teach students to be social media savvy, and gosh darn it, I did so as recent as yesterday. I provide them with some rules to protect them from looking like a virtual ass, but low and behold, I fall victim to assiness every once in a while. How am I supposed to know every single rule in life, and particularly online? I'm just a simple human being, with a big mouth, who wants to over share! So, here's what went down, if you didn't get pissy pants over my FB faux pas. I watched the mid-season finale of The Walking Dead on Sunday night. Andy was in the can and I just needed to talk about the episode. I needed t

LAX

Some people may think that Andy and I are "lax" parents. Our house isn't a free range farm by any means, although just throwing food on the ground, and letting the kids wander around and pick it up when they are hungry, sounds pretty enticing. It's true that we aren't the strictest parents and that, regularly, there is mutiny on the bounty and we are held hostage by little pirate people. The drill sergeant in our house is 3 feet tall and belts outs commands like, "Get me a drink!", "Turn on Netflix!", or "You will not wash my hair!" while wearing only a pullup, squinting her eyes, and pointing an accusatory finger in our direction. Our kids are often in charge. I'm not going to lie to you. The dog may also be in charge from time to time. That's just the way it goes. As more and more of our peers have a third child, we are, unfortunately, asked if we, too, plan to expand. Are these people insane in the membrane? Have they been