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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The Definition of Insanity

June 25, 2013 , , , , , , , , , ,

Definition of InsanityThey say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Like expecting the house to STAY clean OR thinking someone would actually change the toilet paper roll when it’s empty OR actually hearing and succumbing to my way or the highway.

The calm loving discussions (insane arguments) that I have with my kids are proof positive that I, not only passed right by the Child Psychology Diner and kept on driving, but I’ve now plummeted over the cliff of Parental Lunacy and am hanging off the edge by a tire (kind of like a Bugs Bunny cartoon). What is happening in my children’s brains that they don’t see the brilliance and wisdom that I’m trying to impart on them? We took a wrong turn at Albuquerque, honey!

How did we get from “mom and dad love me more than life itself and that’s why they’re looking out for me” to “mom and dad are ambassadors of evil and they’re out to get me and ruin my life.” (“Seriously, Sybil, I can stick you right back into that box and you can rub that purple crayon right down to the nub…try me!”)

They say the teenage brain is not as developed as our adult brains. Hmmmmm! I believe the research needs to be expanded to include 6-year olds as well. When does it level off? Will I survive the next 45 years until they’re finally as “developed” as me (stop laughing)? Great! I’ll be 90, covered in gray hair and moles and holed up in a state-run facility they committed me to and they’ll show up one day with flowers and an apology for being such ass holes. They’ll finally acknowledge how much I truly loved them. They’ll apologize profusely and beg for my forgiveness. I’ll say fuck right off and immediately proceed to crank up my vodka drip and get right back to those hilarious re-runs of Happy Days. (I always thought Henry Winkler was taller than that)

As I type this, I swear to you, I will conquer this beast. This demon that rages inside my house and forces me to drink too much. I will prevail as the victor. The spectacularly successful professional with two incredibly well-rounded, kind, happy adult daughters. I will be interviewed by the aging Diane Sawyer and she will ask me the secret to my remarkably noteworthy parenting and I will utter on national television, the words that cause my mother to roll over in her grave….

“Diane, I honestly didn’t know what the fuck I was doing….want some wine?”

Stay sane, my friends.



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