Despite my chronic overuse of the word "poop" and my occasional references to partial nudity, I really am a grown-up. I have a husband, I have a house, I have a kid, and I have a car. I pay my own cell phone bill, I cook from scratch almost every night, and the sad state of my ass forced me stop wearing thong underwear many, many years ago.
See? I'm a total and complete grown-up.
That's why I was so surprised when I found myself alone in my living room, sobbing like a cartoon moose at four o'clock in the morning, feverishly typing an email to my mother. It went something like this:
SUBJECT: I really, really need my Mom!!!!!
I need your help so bad. James's daycare was closed all of last week and I "worked" from home. Except I got nothing done. And I have a huge meeting tomorrow morning where I'm supposed to discuss all of my recent accomplishments. That would be okay, except I don't have any recent accomplishments. And James's daycare is closed again this week, so I really don't think I can achieve any notable accomplishments today.
It's raining, our TV is broken, and I know I'll have to spend all day in a tent in the basement pretending to be an angry bear. And seriously Mom, that's not an accomplishment I can talk about at tomorrow morning's meeting.
Mom, I'm crying and worrying and just freaking out over here. I'm supposed to work part-time, and be a great mom, and help Jared at his work, and cook dinner, and clean up after people--and let me tell you, I totally blow at all of it right now.
I only slept for three hours last night and my brand new purse smells like poop.
I love you,
Within two hours my mother and sister, the kind-hearted superstars that they are, had worked out a plan.
Jared met my sister--who drove up from the South of Boston--at a parking lot in Southern Maine. She drove James to her house where my mother will pick him up and bring him back to her place. From there, James will spend the next few days playing at the beach, eating soft-serve ice cream, and manipulating the heck out of my parents.
I guess you could call it a win, win, win situation.
But for some reason, despite the all-around fabulousness of the scenario, I feel like a big, fat, loser of a mother. Probably because I now have concrete proof that I can't do everything, flawlessly, at the very same time.
Now don't get me wrong here--I know that I'm not a loser, but deep down I still still feel like a first-class loser. But I know I'm not a loser. Even though I kind of am.
That makes sense, right?
Either way, I'm unbelievably grateful to have my mom and my sister and I hope they know how much I appreciate their help this week--because I'm seriously, seriously stretched too thin right now.
Don't ever let anyone tell you that adulthood is easy, because that my friends, is a bold faced lie. I've been a grown-up for a few years now, and take a look at me--I WANT MY MOM!!!!