Martha Stewart Would Disapprove

I lived a life-time before I had my first kid.  I'm 40 with a one-year old daughter.

Advantage:  I have literally been there, done that.

Disadvantage:  I've never been there, done that with a kid.

I'm the mom in the neighborhood/day care/play group that makes all the other moms feel better.  I work full-time and leave my little one at day care every day.  I don't make bows, I don't bake cupcakes, I have no idea what 'attachment parenting' is about and I couldn't tell you the difference between organic and not organic.    I am freaked out that my currently bald baby girl will eventually have hair and I am the one responsible for keeping it from becoming a bird's nest.  French braid?  Pig tails?  Barrettes?

I am the mom who will forget about the 50 cupcakes needed for the school party and will rush to the grocery store to buy 100 stale florescent frosted cupcakes from the bakery an hour before the party.  Why 100 instead of 50?  Because my guilty conscience says that an extra 50 stale cupcakes will make up for me not making gluten-free organic cacao cupcakes with fresh strawberries on top.  When my daughter is supposed to take a homemade gift to some party, I am the mom who will go to etsy.com and buy something that someone else made.  We will most likely not have fresh squeezed lemonade after school, and I can't guarantee that I will pack her lunch everyday.

That does not mean that I am not head-over-heels in love with my daughter.  I could spend my time trying to improve my cupcake baking skills, or practice a perfect French braid, but I think my time would be better spent doing the things that we both like to do...like playing hide & seek, pointing to our noses and catching up on the latest adventures of Olivia.

I know there are other moms who are either too busy or just not inclined to be the domestic goddess that other moms are blessed to be, and I wonder what shortcuts they take to enjoy their families just a little more.

I Heart Tina

I have been a Tina Fey fan for a long time.  She has the kind of wit and humor that I wish I had all the time.  I read her book Bossypants a few months ago and it really just made me love her more.  There are just too many things that I was able to identify with as a working mom with a very young daughter.  "A Mother's Prayer for Her Daughter" still makes me laugh and I just have to share it.  If you're a working mom, I recommend Bossypants for an easy read that will relieve you to know that we're not alone in trying to manage it all.

A Mother’s Prayer for her Daughter

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither the Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered,

May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half

And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her

When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the nearby subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock N’ Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.

Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes

And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.

Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long,

For Childhood is short — a Tiger Flower blooming

Magenta for one day –

And Adulthood is long and Dry-Humping in Cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever,

That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers

And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister,

Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends,

For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord,

That I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 a.m., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck.

“My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental note to call me. And she will forget.

But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.