There's No Mama Mold
Sometimes I wake up all, "I am woman" and proudly strut my stretch marks and my sweatpants, slapping my flaccid tummy thinking,"I grew a human in there and fed it with my own vitamins and minerals and blood and prayers. I am amazing. " I stalk Natural Mother Magazine and dole out tablespoons of ACV in equal proportions. I plan out my organic garden and rub coconut oil on everything- even my teeth. I bake gluten-free granola and rehearse my daughter's memory verses that are neatly displayed on our refrigerator door and I scoff at those Mamas who eat white bread and just can't get their stuff together. I mean, how hard is this really??????
And then, I remember I'm from New Jersey where pizza and bagels are their own food group. Who am I kidding- I'd do terrible things to look like Beyonce. Terrible, terrible things. I forget to take my vitamins half the time and there's no way, under any circumstance you could get me to choke down raw liver- no matter what anyone says about the iron content. I like to get manicures and have someone else rub my feet. I really, really do. I really like a good glass of wine. I say bad words sometimes. Ok, most of the time. My kid waved poop in my face to wake me up yesterday morning and I sincerely contemplated letting her play with it if it meant I could keep my eyes closed for just another 5 minutes. I let her watch Despicable Me two times in a row once because I was tired of answering, "Mama, tell me a story of when you a little girll........no, not that one....the other one.....no, not that one....the other one......" I
I thought you had to subscribe to one kind of Mama life. But that's just silly. I don't subscribe to one kind of Me-life, why should my Mama-life be any different? I love christian history, liturgy and tattoos. I love classic literature, Ben Harper and french cooking. I read both Rachel Held Evans and Ann Voscamp's blogs daily. There's more than one dichotomy in that sentence. I will eat organic, mainly paleo meals all week unless I have an intense need for a mozzarella stick. Which, is often. I love being a strong, independent woman, that mainly stays home and cares for the kid and the family. I love Jesus and try to love all of his people but sometimes I suck at it. Sometimes, I don't try hard enough. Or, at all.
There's no mold for Mama's because there's no mold for YOU.
Thank God.
I really needed a Black Russian with cream cheese.