Parenting Schadenfreude

Schadenfreude - the pleasure derived from the misfortune of others

I was going to save this post for Mother's Day, because I felt that it represented an appropriate reality of what it looks like, day-to-day, being a stay-at-home mom.  But then Lady Wisdom came a-knocking (on my skull with her have-some-more-grey-hair-stick) and I thought, Why the hell would I wait for Mother's Day?  Every damn day is for someone else, so I'm going to share this post NOW.  Maybe it will help someone else by either making them laugh, or giving them a good dose of "Wow, I'm a waaay better mom than she is" schadenfreude.  Anyway, as an obligatory disclaimer:  this post has somewhat more profanity in it than my normal ones do.  I usually try to keep this blog space a little bit less sweary than my brain, but since there are direct quotes included from my real life, I wanted to keep it as raw and real and representative of moms like me as possible.  Please enjoy...

I recently had a conversation with a good friend about being parents.  In all reality, we frequently text each other throughout the day...simply to get ourselves through the day, because this parenting shit is hard.  Honestly.  I have said before and will say it again -without reservation- that if any of us truly knew the level of work involved in being a parent, the human race would cease to exist.  I think many of us feel this way, but are afraid to admit it, even to ourselves; yet without doubting my love for my children for a second, I can now say this confidently.  I love them more than anything on the face of this earth and beyond, so I am deeply grateful that I didn't have that foreknowledge.  Still, it doesn't change the fact that they run me ragged.

You Seasoned Parents know exactly what I'm saying, but you Parents-to-Be will think I'm a monster for admitting that.  Can you believe her?  She says she wouldn't have had her kids -HER OWN KIDS!!!- if she knew how hard it was going to be.  What kind of a horrible person says that?  (I do.)  What kind of MOTHER feels that way about her own children?  (Most of us.)  She's probably going to be one of those psychotic people we hear of on the news.  (You mean I haven't made the news yet?)  Call CPS now!!!  (They will laugh in your face.)  I'm never going to be that kind of mom.  (Yes you will.)

OK, pregnant/trying parents, before you get your panties all in a knot about how horrible I am, observe Exhibit A, a conversation between two honest moms.  (I have omitted most of my friend's comments because she shared them with me in confidence.  However, I have left most of my reactions, so that you Already Mamas can feel better about yourselves and you Mamas-to-Be can live in fear.)

Mama T-Bone:  I see all the people excited about their first baby.  All I can think is "poor suckers have no idea what's in store."

Moi:  Right?  Remember when our lives weren't measured by how many poops fielded by 10 am?  Between myself, Ribbers, and Alice, I have been a party to four of them so far.

-- Later that day --

Moi:  Sometimes you try and try and try.  Then it never feels like enough and you lose your shit and explode.  Then you feel bad for losing your temper and you wonder why the hell you ever decided to become a parent.  It is the absolute most masochistic thing that humans do.  I mean really, "I have an idea!  Let's put a tiny person in my stomach who will destroy my body, make me feel sick, and never love me as much as I love them.  Then, they will keep me awake constantly, shit their pants, scream at the most inopportune moments, and suck the daylights out of my tits.  They won't be grateful for shit and they will never listen to me.  They will make me question everything I thought I knew and absolutely make me feel like a failure at times.  They will cause me to drink, expect me to pay for things like weddings and education, then leave home and tell me how annoying I am when I ask them to call.  But at the end of the day, I will love them so much that it hurts.  Yup.  I wanna do that." (Said no one ever.)

-- Later that day --

Mama T-Bone has just vented about her son's behavior.

Moi:  Ugh.  So frustrating.  Jammy has developed a bit of a violent temper (like her mother, despite my never EVER having been even slightly violent with her).  In the past 24 hours, I have been hit, kicked, and had Mardi Gras beads thrown at me...not to mention the whining, screaming, tantrums, and name calling.  So I ate 1/4 of our King Cake by myself, with my hands, standing over the kitchen counter.  I'm going to institute a daily happy hour.  No liquor?  Fine.  I'll drag the kids out with me to get it.

And pay for it with their future allowance.

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Funny how so many of my frustrations find their outlets in food.  Here's another one:  Exhibit B.

Moi:  (This message was accompanied by a photo.)  Leftover lemon buttercream + copious piles of graham crackers help you ignore your children screaming at you.  WHY HAVEN'T WE INTRODUCED THIS TO THE MIDDLE EAST??? World peace is all I'm sayin'.

Mama T-Bone:  When I have frosting you can bet that exact pic is my lunch, snack, breakfast on those days...okay let's be honest.  Frosting doesn't last days...it's more like day.

Moi:  Fuck.  I'm gonna barf.  I ate it like I haven't seen food in months.

What the hell is wrong with me?!??

Mama T-Bone:  Nothing.  You have two small children and the only way to survive is to run on a sugar high or coffee.  It's the only way to keep oneself together in the Land of Bat Shit Crazy.

-- Later that day --

Mama T-Bone and I were discussing our post baby bodies.

Moi:  Nothing is flattering these days except my personality.  I'm fucking winsome.

What happened to us?

Mama T-Bone:  I'd like to say nothing but the truth is we turned __.

Moi:  Plus kids.

Mama T-Bone:  If that's what you call them.  I call them monsters.

Moi:  Word.

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We aren't bad moms...we are normal moms.  We do our best and we often fail.  But guess what.  Sometimes we succeed.  For those of you new parents (mainly mamas, but dads too):  This shit is hard.  It doesn't get easier.  It just evolves like a parasitic amoeba.  But you love your children; never ever ever doubt that because while love shouldn't be the only thing you give your kids, it is the best thing you can give them.  

I still have a lot to learn about being a parent.  I screw up every.single.day.  Scout's honor.  Just ask my kids, they'll tell you.  I'm not going to throw any cliches at you about how it's so worth it (it is), or how the good makes you forget the bad (bullshit), but I am going to tell you (and myself) one very important thing:  

Give yourself some damn grace.

For real, y'all.  It is so easy to preach to others about forgiving themselves, but that is a really tough pill for us to swallow when it comes down to our own shortcomings.  I can tell you and my other friends all day long what great moms they are and how they are doing their best and their kids will appreciate it some day and blah blah blah...but I cannot tell myself those things because I hold myself to a different standard.  My guess is that many of you do too.  In fact, I'm saying so many of the things that I've written in this post to myself because I need to hear them more than anyone else I know.

We are all insecure about our parenting abilities.  Anyone who tells you otherwise is a damn liar.  Or a fool.  Or both.  Regardless, you don't need that kind of bad mojo in your lives, making you doubt your capacity to parent the child that God Himself gave you to raise.  Now, that's not a pass for you to never take a step back and evaluate yourself or to refuse to make any changes, but it should give you a helluva confidence boost.

I thought I'd end on a quote that I read this week.  Maybe you will think it's corny, but you just might like to dwell on it a bit this week.  

"The very fact that you worry about being a good mom means that you already are one." -Jodi Picoult

Tomorrow's Monday, Mama.  You've got a long week ahead of you, but you are a friggin' warrior.  As you love on those sweet babies of yours this week, don't forget this last thing:  love yo'self.