I may not have appreciated the sentiment at the moment, with my pounding headache and ketchup-stained shirt, but I know that she was right. The days may last forever, but the years pass by in a blink; the secret to survival is actually remembering to take a deep breath every now and then and enjoy ourselves along the way.
And, that’s the only way to win the mommy race.
Chapter 26
MORE MOMMY CONFESSIONS
• I hide things in empty tampon boxes. I know my teenage son and husband wouldn’t go near one.
• I think I have the most annoying seven-year-old on the planet. Will she ever stop talking? Food literally falls out of her mouth because she can’t shut up long enough to eat.
• I cheat at board games to make them end faster.
• Last night I changed all the clocks in the house to an hour and a half later and sent DS to bed. It was awesome.
• I get ridiculously excited to do our taxes every year. It’s the only thing my MBA has proved useful for as a stay-at-home mom.
• I punctuate the answer to 90 percent of my kids’ questions with a nice big “DUH” . . . said under my breath, of course, but I think sometimes they hear. And I am glad.
• I hate being a stay-at-home mom. I know others would kill for the chance, but I get tired of being Mommy all the damn time.
• I hide my hairbrush in my underwear drawer. If this makes no sense to you . . . then you obviously don’t have a ten-year-old daughter.
• Some days I love my life. I truly love my husband and my kids. They are everything to me. But sometimes I look around my life and it doesn’t feel like it is mine and I wonder what the hell I am doing here.
• Hubby got all grossed out because a little breast milk touched him. I’m devising a plan to sneak it into his food.
• I think my kid has oppositional defiance disorder. I’m about to cure it with some mommy-gone-psycho disorder. My son mouthed off to me, so he is now scrubbing the toilets. If they’re going to be fresh little brats, I will make their punishment work for ME!
• Sometimes I wipe my child’s face slightly hard to get him back for being a fussy, whining eater.
• You know it’s bad when the baby tries to nurse a fat roll instead of a boob. My number one reason for not wanting to have a third baby is that I pee my pants pretty much every day since my second was born two years ago. At this rate my kids will soon be more potty-trained than I am.
• I like sex as much or more than the next person, but after a particularly passionate encounter, one of my first thoughts is, “Whew, this ought to carry us over for a while.”
• I love my daughter and my grandkids, but I have to put limits on my time with them or I would have no life of my own at all. I raised my kids, now sometimes I’m selfish and want “me” time.
• I regret being too scared to tell anyone about my postpartum depression.
• My teenage son’s curly mop is COMPLETELY out of control. I fantasize about shearing him like a sheep.
• I’ve been a SAHM for twelve years. I’m exhausted. I want a paycheck. I want days off. I want an office that doesn’t look like a bomb went off in it. I want everything I used to have.
• I put vodka in my orange juice this morning.
• I hope my kids never catch on to the fact that I have NO IDEA what the hell I’m doing.
• I have a crush on Eugene from Tangled. Yes, he’s a cartoon character. I’ve reached a new low.
• I’m terrified that my baby will love her new day care providers more than me.
• I might have to pawn some jewelry to pay for day care. Totally worth it.
• My teenage son has psoriasis. I know it’s not contagious, but sometimes I don’t want to sit next to him.
• I ate the rest of my kids’ Easter chocolate last year while PMSing and when they asked what happened to it, I told them the dog ate it.
• When my kids need to be comforted I send them to their grandma.
• I know I’m way too old for this but . . . I’m actually really sad that I’ll never be a princess.
• The best time of day for me is bedtime.
• My son has removed his diaper and is beating me with it. Think that’s my wake-up call that it’s time to be productive today?
• I’m so drained right now that my kids could ask for a pet rattlesnake that would sleep in my bed and I’d be like, “Fine, whatever . . .”
• I would like, for just a moment, to feel like I did when I was a careless teen.
• I keep a steady supply of M&M’s in my purse to fend off temper tantrums at Target.
• My girls and I had donuts for dinner.
• Some days I count down the months until my teen daughter leaves for college. She is amazing and I love her, but she is emotionally exhausting and I can’t wait until I have my life back.
• Just caught my three-year-old trying really really hard to put his own weenie in his mouth. Oh. My. Many men before you have tried and failed to live the dream, son. Many men.
• When my MIL dies, I’m going to do the biggest happy dance of my life. On her gravestone.
• I bought myself a pretty pair of lilac-colored satin pajamas with a lacy camisole top that I thought DF would find sexy. I put them on and tried to make a sexy entrance into the bedroom. He said I looked like Barney.
• I’m embarrassingly excited for the new iCarly episode.
• I had no idea how much of parenting is just bullshitting your way through while hoping the kids don’t call your bluff. I’m full of it.
• I believe in ghosts and I’m terrified of the dark.
• I wish my friends would either (a) get divorced or (b) stop calling me for venting/mediation purposes. I am not a shrink.
• My three-year-old has a TV in his room, only hooked up to a DVD player so he can watch Sesame Street videos at night and so I can get a break.
• I would rather pull out my own teeth than go to PTA meetings.
• My son has a poopy diaper. I just sent him upstairs and told him to sit on DH’s face. Serves my husband right for sleeping so late.
• To the little shit that punched my eleven-year-old DD for no reason and bruised her arm: You’re lucky I’m old and you’re faster than me. To his parents: Pray we don’t run into each other any time soon.
• I constantly forget to brush my one- and two-year-old’s teeth. I am not sure why it’s so hard for me to remember, but it’s a good thing that these teeth will fall out.
• For dinner tonight I have slaved over three bowls of the finest cereal our pantry has to offer, with the rarest of milks from the fridge to complement its exquisite flavors. Dig in, kids.
• Pretty sure as the mom I’m supposed to kill the spiders for my kids and not go screaming down the hallway WITH them.
• Finally, as a mother of five, I have come to the realization that my own mother had no clue what the hell she was doing. Neither do I.
• My kids were acting like lunatics, so I sent them to their rooms. While they were up there, I ate all their Swedish fish.
• Haven’t spoken to MIL directly for months, and yet she still finds ways to work herself into my happy place . . .
• I read once that if you start acting like a crazy gorilla in the middle of your child’s temper tantrum, she’ll stop screaming to watch you . . . it didn’t work and now I feel like an ass.
• I thank God that my kid’s favorite foods are mac and cheese, ramen noodles, and cheap-ass hot dogs!
• Even though I have worked steadily since I was fifteen years old, I sometimes just want to be taken care of.
• I take the long way home to enjoy the relaxation of everyone safely buckled in their car seat and not trying to crawl up me.
• I strategically clean up the crap battery-operated toys before my husband comes home, but leave out all the puzzles and books my children and I play with during the day for my husband to see.
• I came home f
rom a weekend away on business and my kids were wearing the same pajamas I had left them in. My daughter informed me Daddy had dubbed it “Lazy Weekend.” WTF?
• I want to get pregnant again. But I’m afraid of getting a boy. I don’t want a boy.
• I don’t have insomnia . . . I choose to stay up and sleep less hours just so I can have a glass of wine and the remote at the same time.
• Helping DD7 study for spelling test, explaining that Christmas is spelled as such because we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Then had to explain, “No, that’s not a bad word. Mommy just says it when she’s angry. A lot.”
• There is a special place in hell for people who cut in line at school pickup lines. There are freaking signs everywhere! Get a clue!
• When we were kids, my sister showed me how spraying furniture polish in the air while they were out would make our parents comment on how nice the house looked when they got home. Turns out it works for husbands, too.
• I put twenty boxes of condoms on my baby shower registry. No one found it as funny as I did.
• I knew my daughter had lice and I sent her to school anyway because I didn’t want to cancel my hair appointment.
• I throw candy wrappers behind the couch and then blame the kids when my husband finds them.
• My MIL is bringing yet another load of “treasures” to our house tomorrow. When she leaves, I’m loading up my car and going to Goodwill.
• I became an alcoholic when I became a SAHM. I can’t go through one day of this boring life without the buzz.
• I think I’m ruining my children. I only hope it doesn’t start to show until they move out of the house. Then I can blame someone else.
• I continue co-sleeping with my four-month-old (even though I know I am setting up bad sleep habits) just because I want to hold on to the time a little bit longer.
• I use sports tape wrapped completely around my two-year-old’s diapers at nap and nighttime so he doesn’t strip and piss all over the pillow, creating more laundry.
• I buy store-made muffins and pass them off as my own for bake sales.
• A tab broke on my son’s diaper and instead of getting a new one, I wrapped him in packing tape. We have twins; there’s no room for wastefulness.
• I give my kids all the crunchy pointy french fries from McDonald’s and keep the good ones for myself.
• I miss my pre-kids stomach so much it hurts.
• I was using three types of birth control (pill, condom with spermicide, diaphragm) and I still ended up pregnant. WTF was God thinking?
• I only take my two-year-old to the pool so that I can work on my tan.
• I let my daughter stay home from school because I missed her.
• Three-and-a-half-year-old proudly announced that he pooped on the potty and wiped his own butt. When I told him he needed to wash his hands he said, “I already did. In the potty.”
• When did weekends become the same as every other sucky day of the week and summers the same as every other uneventful, stressful season?
• I send homemade baked goods to the teaching staff twice a month so they’ll be nice to my challenging son.
• Is a smoking-hot OB reason enough to get pregnant again? I’m leaning towards yes.
• My boyfriend and I had hot sex in the shower tonight. Loud, steamy, amazing, wonderful sex. It was all ruined, though, when we walked out of the bathroom to see my four-year-old with a little boner standing outside the door. SHIT.
• I laugh when moms struggle with the terrible twos. You think two is bad? Snort. Try the teenage years.
• I’ve gained more weight since my last son was born than I did during both pregnancies combined.
• Whenever my son is given a really annoying toy, I make sure that he accidentally “loses” it. Overnight. When he’s sound asleep.
• I eat healthy all day and exercise . . . but then get home and raid the kids’ snacks.
• At the end of the day, all I really want is simple: to be able to shit in peace and quiet.
• They make my life hectic and dirty and exhausting, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Being their mother is the best part of my life, hands down.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my husband, Jeff Smokler: Not only could I never have written this book without you, I wouldn’t have wanted to. Thank you for not pouting when I ridicule you and continuing to provide me with ample material. You are my rock and I can’t imagine going through life alongside anyone but you. Follow you, follow me.
To my mom, Kathy Epstein: I don’t think I ever truly appreciated you until I had children of my own. Thank you for always being my biggest cheerleader, no matter what the sport. Your love and encouragement knows no limits. Everyone deserves a mother like you.
To my dad, Drew Epstein: Thank you for the best legal advice I’ve ever received, along with never-ending five-dollar bills and love. Sandy Jacobs: Thank you for your shared excitement and support through this crazy ride.
To my brother, Matt Epstein, and sister-in-law to be, Bari Weinstock: Please hurry up and have babies, I need some inspiration! Love you both.
Lisa Leshne: You are my Jerry Maguire—so much more than just an agent. Thank you for finding me and holding my hand and becoming a friend. You are phenomenal.
Lauren McKenna: You are the best editor a girl could ask for. Thank you for making this process so much fun and laughing in all the right places. It’s been a blast.
Nichole Harvey: Thank you for keeping the Scary Mommy community alive and thriving. I could never do it without you.
Thank you so much to my message board moderators who volunteer their precious time to make the boards and confessional a kinder, gentler place. You are amazing! Carri Sweeney, Samantha Angoletta, Mikki Caplan, Kristin Mason, Tamara Seidel, Charisse Oates, and Rae Thomas. And thank you to the wonderful regulars for sparking conversation, making friends, and supporting one another. I am so very proud of what we have built together.
Rachel Horner: You are the best intern in the world. Thank you for making my life easier during the craziest of times.
Nicole Daniels: I could not have written this book without your help. You are the babysitter every mother should be lucky enough to have.
Love to my family: Lisa Chinsky, Bonnie and Dick Lechtner, Ashley Strange, Larry Lechtner, Sue Mandell, Mara Landis, Carol and Myles Berkman, and Jason Guyan for your support and enthusiasm from the very beginning. It means the world to me.
Thank you, Baltimore, for adopting me with open arms. For the first time in my life, I’m not itching to move. To Jennifer Mendelsohn and Evan Serpick: I am lucky to count you as neighbors and friends. Many thanks also to: The Port Discovery Museum, Baltimore magazine and the Baltimore Sun (especially Jill Rosen) for lovely support and coverage. To my kids’ teachers: I am grateful for each and every one of you. Thank you for educating my children day after day after day after day. Better you than me.
Deep appreciation to my friends who have always supported all things Scary Mommy: Marlene Lewis, Jessica Kahn, Amy Egan, Mindy Greenberg, Yana Frankel, Jessica Fidgeon, the Feldmans, the Liptons, the Hamilton women, Anat Zirkin, and Kim Glaun.
Francesca Banducci, Kathy Alconcel, and Angie Lee: In a perfect world, you girls would be my sister-wives. Thank God for the Internet.
Thank you to Cynthia Dermody and Amy Boshnack for making a writing gig at Café Mom’s The Stir a pleasure rather than a chore.
I am grateful to have reconnected with Wash U friends through the magic of social media: Nina Badzin, Rebecca Kotok, Alissa Peltzman, and Alexis Tande, thank you for your dedication!
To my wonderful online friends, who have gone above and beyond in their support, especially: Galit Breen, Dawn Finicane, Ellen Seidman, Holly Rosen Fink, Loralee Choate, Sunday Stilwell, Lara DiPaola, Jennifer Gerlock, Cara Blevins, Ann Imig, Nicole Hempeck, Erin Domareki, Heather Walsh, Michael Guill, Debbie Patrick, Jen Mitchell, Becky Leatherman Adams, Corine I
ngrassia, Nicole White, Kate Hood, Tracy Morrison, Brittany Vanderlinden, Loukia Zigoumis, Pauline Karwowski, Rachel Matthews, Lori Garcia, Mary Fischer, Heather Reinhard, Deborah Cruz, Amber Page, Christy Casimiro, Laura Franklin, Marinka Romanoff, Alexandra Rosas, Britt Reints, Cynthia Wheeler, Julie Dance, Tiffany Romero, Tracey Gaughran-Perez, Rachel Voorhees, Jennifer Williams, Jessica McFadden, Dani Ackerman Liberman, Jodi Schulz, Shell Jeanette, Sarah Visbeek, and Beth Morse. I’m so lucky to have you on my side.
My sincere gratitude to the crew at Simon & Schuster: Jennifer Robinson and Natalie Ebel for their publicity and marketing expertise, and Alexandra Lewis for kindly convincing me that there is never a stupid question.
And to the army of Scary Mommies all around the world who read my blog, submit their own posts, form friendships on the message boards, and confess their secrets: This book wouldn’t exist without you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
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Confessions of a Scary Mommy Page 13
