So, I’ll just put it out there and say that I assume we all have a certain level of crazy going on. The one thing about having children, though, is that we get to have first-hand witnesses to our crazy. I mean, my husband is contractually obligated to witness my crazy, and occasionally support it, but he’s known me longer so the crazy has been doled out slower over time and now he’s stuck with me.
But my kids are innocent bystanders, and they are always there, and sometimes I forget about them, and inevitably the crazy comes out.
Here are the reasons why they may look back on their childhood and realize that mama was a little more nuts than they realized.
1. They see how many times I actually change outfits before I can emerge into the world. Frantically running around, leaving piles of clothes flung in my wake. And I always end up wearing the first outfit I tried on. And I am really not very fashion-forward, so choosing between hoodies shouldn’t probably be that hard.
2. They see me talking to myself…a lot.
3. They watch me singing and dancing in the car with an abandon that would shock and frighten other children. Grayson once asked me, after I had really committed to a rendition of The Indigo Girls’ Closer to Fine, “Why are you doing that to your face, mommy?”
4. I can tune out to a startling degree. I mean if I am reading something that I am interested in, I probably wouldn’t notice if a strong wind lifted my house off of its foundation. Or if my toddler has created a full-body oatmeal and blueberry mask. Not that that has ever happened.
5. The children will experience me as a laid-back mommy for most of the day and then when my husband calls to say he is on his way home, I turn into Pscho Drill-Sargent mommy. “Put your stuff away! Help me clean this kitchen! Put your clothes away! Pick up those blocks and babies! Being a one-year-old doesn’t excuse anyone! Move it! Move it!”
6. I guess when I get stressed I tend to have the mouth of a trucker. I say the f-bomb a lot and, what’s more, I don’t really remember saying it. Like when our dog was having seizures one night, I guess “f#*@!” was really the only word that I said. Or when the doctor put a ginormous needle into my infected thumb the rumor is that I screamed motherf%&*$@! at her but I was kinda blanking out so I don’t totally remember.
7. Once, when Grayson almost caught us in the act I was so startled I jumped up and screeched like he was a masked intruder. He was terrified and said “Why did you get so scared, mommy?” Why you ask, well if you would have come in 5 minutes later son, you probably would have had images in your brain that you would never, ever be free of. Ever.
8. The kids will probably look back and think I suffered from multiple-personality disorder. I can be the most patient, loving mom in the world. But if there is a lack of sleep involved or some kind of hormonal anything in my life, I can turn into Mommie Dearest. Not really. But close.
9. I am prone to bouts of Cleaning Frenzy. It will all of a sudden become the. most. important. thing. to have the baseboards spotless and the crud taken out of the silverware tray and the toys strictly organized according to color and size. When just the day before I could have cared less if Nora walked around spreading enough dirt in the rug to plant wild flowers and I was completely relaxed amidst an explosion of stickers and staples and shredded paper while Grayson created, well, whatever it is that he creates.
10. I am very superstitious and will not let the children kill spiders. Although writing this, I have absolutely no idea why. Because it might rain? Well, that’s stupid cause we could totally use the rain.
11. I have a booger-eating phobia and if I see one of my children eating a booger I will holler and carry-on and nag and maybe resort to shaming to a degree that is a bit pathological. But it’s So. Gross.
12. And finally, Grayson’s contribution to this post is that he thinks I act the most SUPER crazy while trying to get out of the house in the morning and I am missing something (although I think he might be confusing me with his dad). He says that I, and I neither confirm nor deny this, run around in a kind of animal-like squat and yell “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, am I missing something, am I missing something!” Oh, and here is an edit by Gray, I say “oh my gosh” at least 100 times, not just two.
Good luck kiddos.