Okay. So when was it, exactly… when was the exact moment that I lost my mind? Because I don’t recall.
I used to be cool. I used to be thin. I used to be stylish, and edgy, and popular.
Okay, I never was any of those things. At all. Alright, I WAS thin, but I have a face like a death mask when I lose too much weight so, you know, it was not a good thing.
But DUDE. As a mom? It’s like that whole other life never happened. At all. You were just plopped down on this earth — BLADANG! or maybe SHABLAMMO! even — and you are in the midst of Momdom and it is totally weird. And you can’t remember it ever being any other way.
Today, for example. Today I periodically had to stop and quote Talking Heads to myself. “And you might ask yourself, HOW? How did I get here?”
And with a bad back, well let me tell you sister, it is just a BUNDLE of LAUGHS. I’m at that part of the back injury show where it is really painful but not enough to, you know, curl up and die or anything, not even enough really to just lie in bed dosed on some lovely drug, or even enough for your husband to take a day off work to help you take care of things around the house. It hurts, but in a you-have-to-just-suck-it-up-and-do-stuff-or-it-won’t-get-done kind of way. And I am spending my day walking around on ceramic tile. And I am doing this surreal back injury hokey pokey whereupon periodically your back goes Tuh-WWWAAAANNNNNGGGGG and you do this bizarre full body jerky dance move to compensate and make it not hurt anymore. And then you walk around a few more minutes until it’s time to bust a back injury move again. TA-WAAAANNNNNNNGGGG!
Meanwhile, my daughter is sitting over on the tile floor, spitting. SPITTING. With the sole purpose, apparently, of ACCUMULATING A GIANT PUDDLE OF SPIT ON THE TILE. And our cat, Duncan, he of the formerly little sweet baby boy voice, has suddenly started channelling Opus and is talking in SENTENCES. “Mrow mrmrmrmr MEOW mrow meow MEE-OOW.” As he is running by, like he is late for a meeting or something.
So it goes something like this:
“Ptui! Ptui! Ptui!”
“Stinkerbelle, NO! Stop that!”
Trot trot trot…
“No!” Ta-WWAAAAAANNNNGGG! “OW!” *insert cussing*
Trot trot trot. “MEOW! Mrow mrmr MWOW meow!” Trot trot trot.
“DUNCAN! I MEAN IT! Get out from underfoot right…” Tuh-WWWWAAAAAANNNNGGG! “OW! Ow owOW!”
“Stinkerbelle! NO! I am SERIOUS! NO!”
“Meow meow MRRRROW mrmrmr meow.”
Trot trot trot thunkSPLOOOSH! (the sound of Duncan knocking over my glass of ice water)
“DUNCAN! BAD BOY!”
So, yeah. Life is good. It’s so good, it’s a full feature length romantic comedy of good starring, oh I dunno, somebody a hell of a lot more sexy than me and with one of those charming beguiling smiles and really good hair. Who can also cuss like a stevedore. And bust a move a la Elaine from Seinfeld periodically to indicate back injury is happening.
Is it any surprise I catch myself thinking, “Dude. Is this REALLY my life? Really? Really REALLY?” It’s certainly not what I pictured Mom Life to be. It’s definitely messier and a lot more cartoonish than I imagined myself as a mom to be. I mean, there is potential there, when you get past the unshoweredness and the yelping in pain and the spitting potato-bouncing children and domesticated animals running roughshod all over the house.
Well when you put it that way… Yeah. I can see it. Delightful Sandra Bullock Kate Hudson rom-com I AIN’T.
I wonder if the movie is going to need a disclaimer at the end saying “any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental”.
But I am sure it has a happy ending.
*Edited to include a link to Elaine dancing because it makes BDH happy.