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1 week ago

898 words

Photo: I haven’t taken many pictures lately, but scanning through my Google photo I found this awesome one from my trip to Vermont. My friend stocks toys in her house and this made me actually scream with joy and take a picture! I had this Fisher-Price Tudor House when I was a little girl and I played and played and played with it! It was such a joy watching the boys play with it while we were away. So pumped these are still around, hidden away for a new generation to discover.

 

It’s the time of year where everyone is just a little bit crazy. I don’t know why we do this to ourselves. May and December are the most impossible months of motherhood every year. It’s just too much. It’s ridiculous.

I don’t hang out with a whole lot of people for a myriad of good reasons. The women I do choose to spend quality time with are the women who own their craziness, especially during this time of year. If you encounter a woman and say to them, “hey, how are you?” and they answer anything other than “oh my God, so freaking [or expletive] crazy,” she is just straight-up lying. I don’t like to hang out with liars.

Enter, That Mom… from guitar. Some of ya’ll will remember her from a few summers ago. I can’t find the post I originally wrote about her, which is hurting my feelings, so I’ll give a quick recap:

There is a mom who we share our music school with as well as our elementary school. As a matter of fact, for the second year in a row, her daughter is in Ursa Major’s class. She’s classic upscale suburban mom: always in expensive “athletic wear”, highlighted hair in a top bun (done, but so not done), eyeliner but otherwise neutral makeup (effortless beauty), and a different designer purse whenever I see her. When I first met this mom two summers ago, we were just entering kindergarten and made the connection that our kids were same grade, same school. She did one of these:

“Oh my God, I just… I just don’t want summer to end. It’s been so wonderful. I just want to cry. I can’t even think about school starting.”

Mind you, that was like, 2 weeks before the start of school. I… can’t control my face. I am pretty sure I openly scowled at the comment. I had the same scowl on my face when, 2 weeks later, I learned that her daughter was in Major’s class. “We’ll get to know each other this year!” That Mom said with delight.

Fast forward to last November, a few days after the election, we’re in the kindergarten classroom for a reason I can’t recall, and she sees me, opens her arms wide and proclaims, “you need a hug. Can I just hug you? I really want to give you a hug.”

Lord in Heaven, no.

“You’re safe here in this community, you know. You’re welcome and safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you. Neither will my children. We listen to NPR every morning.”

Girl… ok…

Needless to say, weekly encounters at music school are… awkward. At least for me. She doesn’t seem to notice. Tell me you’re surprised.

So here we are today, it’s the end of a long day, and here is That Mom, her daughter, their Yorkshire Terrier, which they bring to class with them… she sees me and we must do our suburban mom pleasantries.

Me: “Hey, how are you doing?”

Her, with a sigh: “Oh, well… you know…”

Me, actually delighted for the revelation of humanity and wanting to share: “I know right? I won’t have my head on straight until January. The holidays and everything! We’re all just so crazy.”

Her, surprised: “Oh, no. I love this. I’m not crazy at all. The holidays are wonderful! It’s just work. You know? Some days are just heavier than others.” (She’s a very important person, obviously.)

I don’t know why she gets under my skin so. I really don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s just because I can see right through the projection of perfection. I could not be less impressed. This is just a simple and stupid lie that just doesn’t need to be told.

Listen, unless you have a staff who is cleaning your house, making your meals, taking care of your children, pleasuring your husband, purchasing your groceries, keeping your social calendar and attending to your Christmas list (and believe me when I tell you, I live among women who have some combination of all of these things), you are crazy during this time of the year. Point blank. We’re doing it all during this time of year because it’s what we do and it makes us absolutely crazy. The Magic of Christmas is fueled by an army of crazy, crazy women.

So just own it! Just take a deep breath, wipe your brow and share your humanity for a moment. By admitting your humanity you recognize the humanity of the person you are sharing it with as well. Own your humanity so that another woman may own hers as well. Share the load for a minute. It’s so simple and easy, yet it means so much.

…Wooooooooosaaaah….

Gonna go play some me Stevie Wonder…

See you Friday for Quiet Thoughts.

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