Diary of a Wimpy Mom

It’s no secret that motherhood has a way of changing us. From the moment we learn of our expecting baby, our hearts begin to convert and our bodies begin to prepare. As moms, we talk a lot about the ways our physical appearance takes a hit, but what about the other ways we change?

What about the ways that we—over time—become sort of… lame?

Call me a Cry Baby

“”Mom, are you crying again?”

I can’t say I wasn’t a crier before I had kids, because I’ve always been on a bit of the sensitive side, but after kids? I am a SAP. I used to be able to handle watching the news but now everything relates back to my mommy heart and I can’t help but think “That is somebody’s baby. What if that were my baby?” And I am a puddle.

Or a sad movie? I just can’t.

I can barely look back at old pictures of when my kiddos were tiny babies without losing it. And don’t you dare put any sort of photo collage together and put it to music and then expect me to keep it together. Because I won’t. 
While I like to assume that everyone ugly cries through the first 20 minutes of Up, I know my extra sensitivity can be thanked to mommyhood.

Where did I put my keys?!

“Has anyone seen my keys?”
“Mom? You mean the keys in your hand?”

Mom brain. It used to be a thing I thought only happened during pregnancy, but it turns out it lasts far beyond that. I often call my children two different names before getting the correct one. I drive with intentions of going somewhere and frequently end up in a totally different spot (however, for some reason it is repeatedly the Target parking lot, about which I can’t even be mad.)

If I forget my grocery list at home, I will wander aimlessly through the store struggling to remember even a quarter of what I had written down. I make notes to myself constantly to help remember what I need to do or when I need to do it. I have multiple planners/calendars going at once, notes in my phone, receipts with lists made at red lights. 

While most of the important details are lost in my head (like remembering show and tell day or where I put my child’s Social Security Number), I still manage to know my elementary school table mate’s birthday and every single word to Gangster’s Paradise. So there’s always that.

Just. So. Tired. 

“Mommy, will you watch this show with me? And you CAN’T  fall asleep this time.”

Obviously, this one is a given. Moms are tired and justifiably so, but did you ever think you’d be so tired you couldn’t sleep? My head hits the pillow and instead of the sweet relief I am expecting, a million worries fill my brain. And the never-ending to-do list fills up my thoughts. But during the day,  as soon as my body is still for longer than 10 seconds, I turn into a narcoleptic. My children are often shouting out during family movie night “MOM! Wake up! You have to see this part!” Whoops.

While all of these things can make us moms feel weak, there are still things out there that make me feel like a pretty hardcore mama. Here are some of my superpowers:

  • I can jimmy rig anything into a baby wipe in a desperate situation.
  • I can survive on 90 minutes of sleep, while squished on a twin bed, holding the puke pan for a sick kid.
  • I can school anyone in a Daniel Tiger trivia, including the average 3 year-old.
  • I can empty the dishwasher, put together a lasagna, read Pinkalicious to my preschooler, fold a load of laundry, discuss important Pokemon stats with my kindergartner, and feed the dogs all while holding a 26 pound clingy toddler to my hip.

So when you cancel your plans with your girlfriends because they will to be out past 9, when you find your gallon of milk inside the pantry, or when you get teary-eyed folding baby socks, remember how heroic you are and all the amazing things you can do.

You’re not so wimpy after all. 

Erika
Erika resides in Midtown Omaha with her husband Chris and their three kids, Macklin, Everly and Henrik. She has a background in early childhood education and child development. She enjoys long walks down target isles, eating raw cookie dough out of the fridge, attempting to craft, and embracing the chaos of motherhood.