"I am a terrible mother." So very many of us mom-people freak out all to often and actually believe this statement. Until the Supermommies strike and piss us off. And here's how it happened: Pattergirl had a snotty nose, the tail end of what was a couple of weeks of germy HELL in my house, and was going out in public, which included playing with Other People's Children. I called Pattergirl over so I could give her some decongestant. As my little blonde-haired, blue-eyed, pigtailed Pattergirl bounced over to me, this "Person-I-Once-Liked-turned-Supermommy" looked at me with horror...the scene changed to a dramatic slow-motion...while I squirted what I thought was a relatively "safe" OTC cold remedy into my little girl's mouth...end of slow motion...and Supermommy began her interrogation. SM: "Did you ask your pediatrician before you gave her that?" Me: "No. The dosage on the bottle for ages four to six says 2 teaspo...
Today I went to a well-known day spa in our fair city and had an aloe and herb body wrap. I was scared, ashamed, scared, unsure, curious, excited, scared...you get the point. You may be wondering, "What's the big deal? Why is Pattermomma so damn scared?" Well... Two children and various stages of using food or the control of food as medicine have left my body in not the most attractive of states. I am the heaviest I have ever been (maybe...I think I might have dropped a couple pounds this summer), and had my youngest in November. It takes some of us mommas a little longer than others to return to what is now the New Normal. My belly is floppy, my breasts are suffering from gravity, and what the hell happened to my ass and thighs? Since when did I start looking like...a Mother? I often thank the Fates that I am no longer the naive youngun' I was in my early twenties, but I also curse those same Fates for removing the physical perfection along...
Tonight I went dancing. Not the "fellas at the club" type of dancing, but the "promenade and swing and try not to run into anyone and onetwothree onetwothree will the room ever stop spinning" type of dancing. It was amazing. It was uplifting. It was refreshing. It smelled a bit, but I loved it. I had no idea that my calves could sweat. One apple and some peanut butter later (how many days now without an Extra Value Meal?), I lay here in my bed, head throbbing, listening to GreenWarrior snoring, and experience, for the second Saturday in a row, the exhaustion that comes from pure exhilaration. Pure, absolute-my abs hurt from laughing and my legs hurt from dancing-exhilaration. Why on God's Green Earth didn't I do this before? I seriously need to go contra dancing again. No one ever told me that I could feel this completely and utterly tired and yet happy at the same time. I could completely pass out yet I am still high from all of...
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