I'm a Scary Mommy, Too

Well, I didn’t win TheBump.com’s Mommy Blog Award, but I WAS a finalist. So thanks to all of you who voted for me! As they say, it’s an honor just to be nominated. Good thing I hadn’t picked out a fancy gown or anything... ;)

You know who DID win? Scary Mommy. And in honor of the new movie Motherhood, starring Uma Thurman, she’s running a contest to find other Scary Mommies out there. She defines it like this: “I believe a Scary Mommy is a mother who doesn’t leave the house wearing lipstick at all times. A Scary Mommy loves her kids to death, but will admit to feeling totally overwhelmed and exhausted by the gig. A Scary Mommy doesn’t really care what other people think, and a Scary Mommy thinks that all mothers win when we admit our weaknesses.”

Weaknesses? I have a few. Loves her kids? Check. Overwhelmed? Check. And going out without lipstick? How about without shoes? I left the house in my slippers the other day and didn’t even notice till I was in line at the drugstore. Anyway, here’s why I think I’m a Scary Mommy.

Yesterday started typically with my 8 m.o. screetching from his crib around 5 a.m. Having woken up to nurse at 11 p.m. and 3 a.m., he was starving, naturally. So what if he weighs well over 20 lbs? So what if he’d consumed half a sweet potato, a cup of squash, a banana, and a bowl of cereal throughout the day? So what if he’s got more chub on his thighs than “The Biggest Losers”? The baby must be FED!

His shrieks awakened his older brother, who exited his room bewildered and wet. Why, oh WHY, did we not put a Pull-Up on him, “just in case”? Because the potty training? Didn’t fully “take,” you see. Even though he’s 3 ½ and we’ve been at it for almost a year. Between the baby’s constant spitting up and his brother’s frequent accidents, we do more laundry in a week than a laundromat.

With Dad long gone to work, we three trudge downstairs to find the dog has been in the trash again and shredded a dirty diaper throughout the first floor. Clean-up in Aisle 2! Breakfast is procured as quickly as possible to minimize the squawks from the highchair and complaints from the booster seat. “I don’t WANT cereal, Mama, I wanted a WAFFLE! I don’t want BANANAS on it, Mama, I want BLUEBERRIES!!” Meanwhile, Mama hasn’t even gotten to go to the bathroom yet, let alone make coffee.

Filling the coffeepot with water, I notice the sink isn’t draining. I flip on the disposal. CRUNCH!! Oops. How did that glass baby food jar get down there? The waffle is taking an awfully long time to toast. Oops. Maybe because I unplugged it to plug in my breast pump. Where are all the bottles and sippy cups? Oops. Still dirty in the dishwasher; “someone” forgot to run it last night.

On a good day, getting 3 people fed, dressed, and out the door to school or the sitter makes us only 20 min. late. Factor in a lost sneaker, a diaper blowout, or an appointment requiring makeup and you’re looking at a 40 min. delay.

I used to be an organized person. I used to be punctual, fairly well-groomed, and able to use the bathroom whenever I wanted to. I went entire weeks without encountering another person’s bodily fluids. I did not refer to myself in the third person or know who Wow Wow Wubbzy was. But now... Now I’m a mommy. Pretty scary, huh?

LINK O' THE WEEK: Another Scary Mommy, Loukia, posted these hilarious pics of her 2 boys' antics. Now THOSE are shots for the family scrapbook!