I’m not that Mom

The girls are wired and me, I’m just tired. I wish I could be more like them. They are firmly tucked into their beds, and I have a long way to go before I can sleep. A lunch (mine) needs to be created from the bare refrigerator I haven’t had time to fill.  Clothing needs to be put out for the morning, all three of us, out of the rapidly emptying drawers as I haven’t had the time to do laundry. They have this endless amount of energy and I’m exhausted by an already long, exhausting week with the weekend upon us. I need to be more like them.

They are incredibly different from each other, and a definite example of “nature verses nurture.” Both were raised the exact same way yet they couldn’t be more different. One is a natural born leader with an inherent sense of “street smarts” that will bode her well for the future. The other has a love of learning that will help create an amazing future for her. However, what they share is innocence and a zest for life that makes me envious of the two of them. When did I become so focused on earning a life that I forgot about what was important?

I think back to the moment I thought I might be pregnant – after I used numerous positive pregnancy tests – and thought wow – it’s amazing how many of these are broken; how many are just plain wrong. After it was confirmed by an actual, real Doctor (I still think I should ask to see credentials) that I actually was expecting – after the pure and utter shock wore off – I was in awe of this incredible role I was going to have and how I was going to be the “greatest mom ever!”

I remember the heartache I felt leaving the two of you behind at the hospital. The two of you were so incredibly premature, a mere six pounds combined at birth. I vowed to the two of you that I was going to be the “greatest mom ever!” When I finally had the opportunity to bring the two of you home, a very long six weeks later at a combined weight of ten pounds – I was the happiest I had ever been. Finally, the two of you were under my care, I truly had NO idea what I was in for. But, I was going to be the “greatest mom ever!”

To be honest, I don’t remember the first three months of their being home; it was endless exhaustion where we were seeing a different specialist on a bi-weekly schedule – the heart specialist; the lung specialist; the eye specialist; the pediatrician, to name but a few. I remember having to go to the Children’s Hospital on such a frequent basis that the security guards at the front desk knew us by name and would inquiry how the girls were doing; that I purchased an exorbitant parking pass because it was substantially more economical. I had to endure the pain and heartache of leaving one of you overnight due to your having surgery and being forced to make the decision – do I leave one child with a staff of nurses or do I let one baby go home and not be there for the other? My first glimpse into how I wouldn’t be the greatest mom ever.

I promised the two of you, yet again that I was going to do whatever it took, to be “the greatest mom ever!”

So what happened? How did the two of you end up with me? Every day, I’m surrounded – nay, confronted – with all these impeccable examples of what being a mom is all about. That’s not me.  I don’t gleefully make cookies; I’m not thrilled at finding new recipes to prepare for my family; I don’t craft, just to name a few, of many. I’m not that person.  I’m different. I’m not “the greatest mom ever!”

When the three of us were leaving the day home the other day, one of you noticed what you called a “crack” in the driveway. Me – no darling, that’s not a crack, that’s an expansion control joint. “What’s that Mommy?” While I was dorky enough to actually explain to my 4 year old daughter what it actually was. The clueless look on your faces was priceless. Kay this was me. Yes, I’m that dork. Yes, I’ve embraced the dork side.

I get it. I’m not going to be the mom that makes cookies; our pancakes are going to come into the house pre-prepared, and if you want warm brownies, I’m going to suggest you go to the local convenience store and microwave them.

I’m going to be the mom that when you build those bridges and towers with lego blocks, I’m going to point out the structural instability of your design and subsequent construction. I won’t be the one to teach you how to cook, or clean for that matter, but I will teach you how to sweet talk sub-trades into giving you preferential pricing on projects that you close for tenders. Yes, I’m that mom.

I’m going to be the mom that will create design, architectural and structural drawings for your tree-house. (I built my first one at age 6, second at age 7, and the third TOTALLY secret one that my parents never knew about at age 8.)  To be honest, electrical and mechanical designs will require work. I’ll still do them though.

The two of you will have the coolest tree-house, ever!!

We all have our strengths, our weaknesses. I’ve figured out mine.