Quick Reminder, You Glamorous, Glamorous Moms: You’re Not Alone

Hey.

So you know how you’re sitting quietly on the couch, minding your own business, next to the Christmas tree with the soft lights all around, and you think to yourself, what a wonderful world?

And you know how you’ve stayed in your short, cotton nightie all day because you have that sniffling, sneezing, stuffy head cold going around, but it doesn’t matter because no one’s going to see you anyway? You’re comfy and the ibuprofen’s working, so who even cares that your legs are prickly, your bra is God knows where, and your make-up is left over from yesterday so you’re sporting that whole strung-out raccoon look? 

And you know how you have a quilt on top of you and a pillow behind your back, and nothing pressing, and the children, praise Jesus, are all busy elsewhere and quiet so they’re probably setting the house on fire but who cares because you have, like, ten whole minutes entirely to yourself?

You’re with me, right?

Yes? 

You know how you got yourself a cup of French pressed coffee with just the right amount of cream, and it’s warm and perfect, and you set it down on the little table next to you, and you’re actually, for once in your life, drinking it before it gets cold?

And then you know how one of those children, bless his heart, decides to get the games down from the very top shelf of the bookcase behind the Christmas tree? And so said child must step over you and onto the arm of the couch and lean over the coffee and hang onto the tree for balance?

And then you know how the child overbalances and the tree tips and the games fall and the coffee crashes to ground and so does the child and most of the ornaments and there’s coffee and game pieces and shards of glass everywhere?

And you’re fine with all of that because the child is OK and you don’t have to go to the emergency room, so you pull the child from the mess and send him to get a towel and a broom and tell him it’s OK and everyone makes messes and I’ll clean this one up because, in our family, we help each other?

And you know how you feel rather kind and very heroic and like you rocked the poop out of motherhood, reacting with grace and compassion even though you’re sick and you could have been a total ass to your kid?

And then, you know how, in an effort to step in neither coffee nor glass, you drape yourself decorously over the couch to clean the mess? With grace and elegance? Pretty much exactly like a 1950s housewife who wears heels and pearls to polish her already pristine home?

And you know how your kid, that little turd, grabs your camera and takes a pic so you get to find it on your phone later and reminisce?

You know?

You know, right?

Well, me, too. And I just want you to know when that happens… you’re not alone, friend.

You are definitely not alone in this glamorous, glamorous life.

With love,

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ABOUT BETH WOOLSEY I'm a writer. And a mess. And mouthy, brave, and strong. I believe we all belong to each other. I believe in the long way 'round. And I believe, always, in grace in the grime and wonder in the wild of a life lived off course from what was, once, a perfectly good plan.
6 comments
  1. I just died. I’m responding posthumously. This is the best.

  2. In pj pants with old T-shirt riding up my back but who cares because I took my bra off already (as in, as soon as I walked in the door) and no one’s looking, fighting the sniffles that have been trying to win for 2 weeks, and looking at my almost empty glass of water wishing it were tea but too lazy to get up and make some. My hair looks like an 80s disaster, and I’m ok with that, because at the moment it’s silent. Bonus? my laptop hides my desperately-in-need-of-a-pedicure toes, and no one is around so I don’t have to be gracious about covering my coughs politely. And I did shower this morning, so there’s that. Definitely rockin’ the glamorous life with you! Thankfully no one has taken a picture…yet. 🙂

  3. It seems I’ve put my pajamas (same pair I wear every single night bc nothing fits) on inside out. Also backwards. And I have a small and perky toddler bow in my hair, bc I meant to bring it to the toddlers room and never did. Glamour here.

  4. Waving at you from Baltimore with my unpainted, cracked nails and chapped-cuticles fingers, in my kid’s college sweatshirt and moose PJ pants, with an empty yogurt container and dirty spoon on the floor next to me, watching Sunday Night Football (go Pack). You’re doing it all right!

  5. I feel like you were at my house yesterday. Same cold, same prickly unshowered self wrapped in a blanket sipping hot lemon tea cause my throat was on fire when the hyper youngest asks to take out the stuff from the Christmas boxes. She promises to be careful. She promises to just put on the dining room table. Because I’m also a rockstar mom nodded and said sure what really could happen? then the crash followed by me spilling the hot tea on myself….‘‘tis the season 🙂

  6. Currently enjoying my peace and quiet with perfect coffee, no other awake being around me (except Dog – who is, praise Jesus, willing to leave me alone), jammie-clad, iPad and kindle near by. #sweetspot

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