Whine: I am still working on getting the hang of getting anywhere with all three children. It is that much more difficult when one of your children ties herself to her brother’s carseat with a red ribbon (that had up until that point served as a leash for her newfound pet dinosaur.)
Cheese: I am now faux-famous. Back when I had lots and lots of free time (you know, back when I only had two little wild things to keep track of) I submitted some video of myself to be used as a promo for The Ultimate Blog Party over at 5minutesformom.com (see sidebar). And although the footage of me is short, it is humiliating long enough to illustrate why my acting career never took off. I really, really hate myself on video, which is why after ten years I still haven’t worked up the nerve to watch my wedding video. So it makes total sense that I would ask Mr. Dad to film me 9+ months pregnant then send it to a complete stranger to put on her highly-trafficked website. Total sense.
Question of the Day
If you had five minutes to yourself (and by “to yourself” I mean in a room with the door locked while the heathens bang on it and holler) would you:
a) take a really fast shower?
b) eat half a bag of potato chips and wash it down with a few gulps of diet coke?
c) ignore your hunger and lack of hygeine and watch a nostalgic 80s music video on youtube? (Of course it’s the Beastie Boys, what else could it be? )
d) take a catnap while sitting in the dentist’s chair waiting for your x-rays to come back?
e) write a quick thank you note for the cute baby clothes you received the other day?
Don’t worry, just choose the one you like best. There isn’t a wrong answer. Well, that’s not true. E is definitely a wrong answer. Very wrong. If that’s how your’e spending your five minutes, I’ve got a few baskets of laundry that need folding.
As a Mommy, most of the time I get is begged, borrowed or stolen. And it usually comes in five minute increments (or less, usually less). Today I put the baby in the bed, locked the bathroom door — ignoring the distressed cries of my newborn, who by the sound of him hadn’t eaten for days – and took a shower. You know, they say babies can smell their mothers from up to 20 feet away. So I got in the shower, hoping that if I scrubbed hard enough he wouldn’t be able to locate me for a few minutes. Like that worked. But at least I was clean.Well, cleanish, it was a five minute shower after all.
But now that I can officially claim three dependents on my tax return, I’m starting to figure out that if I need something just for myself, I’m probably going to have to either get very clever or use force. Like the time that I was pregnant and starving and in need of snack lest there be bloodshed, and as soon as I busted that cheese out of the fridge, the vultures (who had just had a snack) swooped in and started begging. So I locked myself in my bedroom until I ate every last bite. And then there was the time that I wanted to actually finish a phone conversation that I had started, but the “ambient noise” of the yelling and screaming had grown too loud to form a coherent thought. So I locked myself in my bedroom until I finished the conversation. As many times as I’ve employed that trick and had two pairs of little fists objecting, I’m surprised the door is still in tact.
And as often as I’ve had to fight for my right to change out of the dirty clothes I’ve been wearing in public all day or the right to use my computer without having to pull up Elmo videos, I’ve learned that those are not the only battles I need to fight.
I fight for a few minutes here and there with Mr. Dad. To catch up on the lastest in his sports obsession or to watch the redbox movie we’ve had so long we should’ve just bought it in the first place. To make sure we still remember what the other one looks like and that we are still capable of carrying on a thoughtful conversation that is not punctuated by rounds of E-I-E-I-O or requests for more juice. Because if I don’t have my partner at my side, I’m going to be one frantic mommy.
I fight for time to be myself. To read books without pictures and pray longer prayers than “Please, Lord, get me through the next ten minutes without killing anyone.” To think deep thoughts. And to write, usually not quite as deep thoughts, but generally coherent ones I hope. Because if I don’t remember who I am, then I’m kind of missing the point, aren’t I?
And I fight for friendship. I fly to exotic locales to celebrate my friends’ happy moments. I allow widespread destruction so I can answer the phone. I sit on the computer longer than I should, looking at pictures of babies and weddings and cakes made and blog posts written so I can feel like I’m still a part of the lives of the people I care about, even if I am locked in my house more hours than I’m not. Because when I’m with my friends (in person or in cyberspace) then I know I’m not crazy. Or at least not alone.
As you can see from the video at the top, we Mommies are a harried bunch. And depending on how long it’s been since we last showered, we are often a hairy bunch. Which is why two lovely ladies invented 5minutesformom.com. It’s a place for moms to go for just a few minutes of connection, ideas, and fun. And this week there’s a party over there with lots of us mommies fighting for our rights. So stop by and spend five minutes there. Because when your occupation is Chief Domestic Officer, five minutes is all you’re going to get.
If you’re here from UPB’10, welcome to A Little Whine and Cheese. Please leave a comment so I know you stopped by and I can return the favor.
I finally drank the kool-aid. After years of resisting the tremendous pressure, I have caved and created a twitter account. So if you’re the follow-y type, you can find me at www.twitter.com/littlewhine. I’ll try to be amusing, I promise.