Begin anew

If you created a storyboard diagram of your life, what would it look like? Would we see you watching tv for endless hours at a time? Would we see you outside playing with your kids? Would we see you spending hours cleaning a house, only to have it trashed in ten minutes?

Would you be happy with what you see there?

Before I was pregnant, I imagined myself being a bizarre cross between Donna Reed and Ani DiFranco, if you can imagine. The woman with the perfectly coiffed hair, and pristine living environment, shuttling her children to Mamapalooza and the local N.O.W. meetings. With two college-graduate parents (one of whom has a degree in education), the TV would rarely be on, because since we'd rather read or discuss current events. If it were a bottled fragrance, it would be Eau du girl sweat and homemade apple pie. Sounds lovely, doesn't it?

The reality of my life as a mother (thus far), is very, very different. On any given day, my hair may or may not have been thoroughly brushed. A ponytail or a single braid is about as elaborate as it gets. My house is rarely clean, and then only for special occassions. I have developed a quirk of thinking that any horizontal surface needs to be covered and given dimension, achieved only by stacking miscellaneous items upon one another, frequently defying the laws of gravity. I can't spend any time cooking, because my time in the kitchen is often spent removing all traces of dog food or dog water (and placing them on the aforementioned horizontal surfaces), or trying to calm my hysterical child who has become attached to my leg. My microwave does all the fancy cooking. And when it comes to entertainment or free time, I am ashamed to admit that we spend far too much time in front of the television set. If I turn it off, thirty-seven rounds of "Twinkle twinke little star" and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" later, I'm madly flipping through channels, frantically trying to determine whether Judge Judy or Divorce Court is more harmful to my child. I think of "Family Feud" as a vocabulary game, and "Zaboomafoo" is a blessing in disguise. I can sing you the theme song to "The Backyardigans", and can correctly identify each of the Teletubbies 9 out of 10 times.

It is not always like this, but it is definitely more often than I would like. I fear I have become my own worst nightmare.


The good news, is that it's still early. I can confess my parental sins, and repent. Prostrating myself upon the altar of parenthood, I can take the necessary steps to move forward in my parental evolution. But I run out of things to do. I have an educational background intended to prepare me to assist other people's chidren in developing mentally, emotionally, and socially, and yet, I have no idea how to entertain my own 15 month old daughter for an entire day without the aid of a tv or movie.

I am floundering on the shore of motherhood, praying for a life preserver. And while it saddens me to say this, I am also very afraid that the very women I respect and admire so very much, many of them fellow mothers (posse, you know who you are) will read this and cease to have any respect for my parenting abilities. I hope that is not the case...

I believe Nelson Mandela, when he says that "the greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall". I may have fallen, tripping myself in my own tangled web, but I can rise up and begin anew. Tomorrow is a new day, a new hope, and new chance to succeed. I know what I will do with it - what will you?