Mom, Interrupted

When I gave birth to my first child, more than one person commented how calm and natural I was with him. I wasn’t stressed or worried about people holding him or coming to visit. I didn’t ask people to wash their hands before picking up the baby and I didn’t fuss over his every sound and movement.

Part of that stems from the fact that I am an anti-germaphobe. Seriously, I kind of have to make myself worry about germs because honestly, that stuff just doesn’t bother me. (But I draw the line at my child licking ketchup off of a McDonald’s PlayWorld floor – which has happened. I’ll give you one guess as to which child it was.)

Part of it, though, came from the fact that motherhood did come naturally. I wasn’t fussy and worried about every little thing with my first child. From the moment he was born I felt completely at ease with being his Mom.

At least that’s what I thought, anyway.

Now that I look back on those early parenting years, I have to shake my head and chuckle at my obvious insanity.Was it obvious to every one else?

Don’t answer that.

I was Nazi Mom when it came to eating and sleeping. I had that child on such a rigid schedule that nothing was permitted to penetrate the iron walls of my control. I planned our entire day around Sloan’s eating and sleeping schedule and I refused to let anything interrupt that.

And today I have a first born who thrives on predictability. Coincidence? Doubt it.

Poor kid.

The problem with my tight little ship (yes, I know – there’s more than one problem with it) was that I was totally closed to spontaneity. I was completely uninterruptible.

If someone called and asked if I could watch their child while they ran an errand or went to the doctor, many times I hesitated. Having someone over would mess up the routine. Sweet Jesus, NOT THE ROUTINE!

As Sloan got older, and more babies came along, I loosened up a little, but I still did not love having our routine interrupted. I was also terrible about inviting other children into my home. I didn’t like it. Having to parent my child with others around made me crazy, so I avoided it.

I was so terribly selfish about my routine and schedule back then. While I often claimed to have a welcoming home, I did little to live that.

Until I met my friend Suzanne.

Suzanne was always willing to have my kids over – all three of them. Despite the fact that Tia and Landon were very young and required more time and attention, Suzanne would constantly offer to have them in her home. She picked them up for me. She fed them and played with them and loved on them. And I watched in awe at the way she allowed her day and her time to be interrupted without complaint.

My friend Bethany was equally amazing. If I had anywhere to be, she was always the first to offer to keep my kids. Even if they were sick, despite the fact that she had little ones herself, she’d wave her hand and say, “Who cares?” and urge me to bring them anyway.

Tia met her best friend, Noelle, on her first day of preschool two years ago. And I had yet another amazing example of someone willing to have their day and schedule interrupted. Noelle’s mom, Jennifer, had such a desire to foster good, healthy relationships between her children and their friends and she was rarely alone with her children. She constantly had someone else’s child with her, and Tia was one of the kids privileged to experience Jennifer’s love and grace.

Those three women weren’t the only ones who modeled to me what it meant to be interruptible. I had many, many friends show me how to be a true servant in this role called Motherhood and with each example, I found myself slowly but surely loosening the grip on my rigid schedule.

I’m still learning to be interruptible. I want my kids to know that they can invite people into our home and that I will welcome others with a warm greeting and not a frustrated sigh. I want to be willing to drop what I want to do so that I can foster and build healthy relationships for my children. I want to be Mom, Interrupted and to fill that role with a smile on my face and, every once in awhile, a plate of cookies in my hand.

I want to bless other parents and other children the way those women blessed me.

What about you? Are you interruptible?

Deep and Funny

A Party Pic Circa 1996. I lifted this off Facebook, so it was already out for the masses to see and laugh at. Good times.

You know when you want to write something really deep and poignant and you feel like it’s all just right beneath the surface, but for some reason you can’t dig it out of your brain because you’re bone tired and you can’t seem to string a coherent thought together other than, “Geez I’m glad Facebook wasn’t around when I was in high school“?

Yeah…that’s super fun.

OR…

You know when you decide to scratch the idea of being super deep and poignant and you decide to write something that’s wickedly funny, that’s sure to make people laugh until they cry and share until it goes viral, but you realize that you can’t dig any humor out because you’re bone tired and all you can think about is how much you would have embarrassed yourself if Facebook had been around in high school?

That’s swell.

Then remember that time when you used the word “swell” while writing a hypothetical post and you began to wonder whether or not you could incorporated the words “rad,” “groovy,” and “righteous” into the same sentence without being too obvious that you were just trying to complete an exercise in writing through writer’s block?

That rules.

Remember that time when you realized the movie Reality Bites is coming up on its 18th anniversary and you remember watching it when it first came out on VHS?

Um…that kinda bites.

You know how sometimes it’s best to say nothing at all, but you feel compelled to say something because if you say nothing people might think you have nothing to say, when really you have tons to say but you’re just tired so you just start typing nonsense thinking that something really deep or really funny, (or maybe something deeply funny?) will spill forth from your fingertips but then you realize that you’re pumping a dry well and the best thing to do is shut up and go to sleep?

That’s good advice. Shut up. We don’t say that word in our house. Unless you mean it and it’s necessary.

I’m kidding.

As far as you know, anyway.

Remember that time you scoured the internet looking for some bit of current news you could use as a launch pad for a post, but instead of reading up on the important matters of the world, you got sucked into celebrity gossip and before you knew it you were yelling at the computer, infuriated by yet another celebrity couple telling the world, “we just grew apart” and you wanted to hulk smash something because you’re tired of marriage being so quickly cast aside?

And then you stumbled over this video that caused you to forget all about the selfish celebrities of the world and instead crumble into a puddle of tears and long to adopt a baby or four from every single country in the world?

This then leads you down memory lane to the day you called your husband sobbing after watching Oprah one afternoon and her coverage of the underground slave trade of young girls in Romania. “We need to go to Romania today and bring home three or four little girls,” you cried. Then your husband asked you not to watch Oprah anymore.

Remember that? That was super.

This is all hypothetical, of course. Merely conjecture. I clearly need to go to bed. Or drink a glass of wine. Or both.

Of course, if any of this were true and did happen to actually spin through my mind, I would tell you that I came up with more than one Status Update circa 1996. And I may have developed a few from 1995, 1994 and 1993, too. I said MAY.

STATUS UPDATE: Last night’s episode of ER was the bomb. Dr. Ross is sooooo hot. (Maybe I would have spelled it hott?)

STATUS UPDATE: Today was, like, so lame. Someone played “I Like It, I Love It” on the cafeteria juke box like 52 times. Ick. Hate that song.

STATUS UPDATE: I hit a parked car at the Homecoming football game tonight. OMG. I’m gonna die of embarrassment. #imadope

STATUS UPDATE: Tonight at the dance the DJ played “Shake Your Rump!” and “Ice, Ice Baby.” #bestsongsever

STATUS UPDATE: OMG! Like, I totally made Hockey Cheerleading today. #wickedawesome

STATUS UPDATE: Wait…why do hockey players need cheerleaders? Can they even hear us behind that glass? #confused

STATUS UPDATE: Reality totally bites. And Winona Ryder is, like, the coolest girl ever.

So tell me, my friends, what would your high school self’s Facebook Status say? We’d all love to know.


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