Confessions of a Professional Mom

Confessions of a Professional Mom

Professional mom seeking clarity, balance and a well deserved glass of wine.

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“Welcome to Insanityland! What’s your dream?”

January 20, 2012 , , , ,

The Hiatts 









This is an ode to my Aunt Barbara. I thought about her this morning when I took the kids to school. You look around and there are just some moms who make having kids look so effortless and joyous. It appears to be their calling. I fear this isn’t me. I doubt myself. Do I have what it takes?

Well, my Aunt Barbara raised six kids and lived to tell about it. She may not have had a job “outside the home”, but in my mind this lady is a professional mom. She worked her ass off. To this day, I do not know how she did it. Her house was NEVER a mess. Everything was in its place. She even ironed my uncles underwear. And their sheets. NOT KIDDING! The kids rooms were also perfect. She simultaneously kept a squeaky clean house, cooked 10 lbs. of bacon every time they had BLT’s (again, not kidding), ran all six kids to various sports (I’m talking wrestling, baseball, basketball, football, cheerleading, gymnastics, dance, art and theater). They all grew into fully functioning adults who went on to give her, like, 200 grandchildren (just kidding, 16). In my mind, she’s a goddess. She deserves a medal of honor.

I asked her on more than one occasion, “How did you do all that without losing your mind?” Her reply, “You know, I really don’t know!” (insert her shaking her head and laughing here) I think when you’re in the thick of it you just DO. You don’t question it, you just do it. If I stop and think too long or hard, that’s when I start to wade a little closer to the edge of Insanityland. (Scene from Pretty Woman)

“Welcome to Insanityland! What’s your dream?”

(Gee, I always wanted to be an easy bake oven for 9 months, enduring swollen feet that looked like the elephant man, breasts that ballooned to the size of blue-ribbon worthy watermelons with a mind of their own, hot flashes, mood swings, back pain, a lovely pigmentation mustache and complete memory loss and squeezing into a pre-pregnancy suit to try and look professional for a big meeeting…ONLY TO THEN ENDURE…20 hours of labor, 3,000 stitches, a vagina that may never stop looking like my dogs droopy jowls, sleepless nights, whipping out my giant breasts to have the life sucked out of me 600+ times, crying, pooping, vomiting, boogers, 30,000 lunches and snacks and cups of apple juice (which of course is full of arsenic), laundry, doctors appointments, running outside to talk to a client while the child screams inside, sporting poop on your nails instead of polish, school plays, homework, endless early mornings and late nights watching them play sports….ALL WHILE…trying to build a company, maintain friendships, exercise like Jillian Michaels, expand my mind (without drugs), satisfy the marital nuptials like the porn star that I am, carve out ten minutes a day to have meaningful conversation with my mate and set a wonderful example for the children that we brought into this crazy world.)

Garcon, a very large glass of wine please! And hurry! (Aunt Barb, you’re a rock star!)

…what’s your dream?

Stay sane, my friends.


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