A few months ago, when I had the idea to do a weekly blog, I knew exactly what my mission was. I wanted something that tore down the cliques of motherhood and got raw and real.
When I entered the magical – sometimes miserable – always beautiful – world of Mommyhood, I really struggled to find my niche. I wasn’t quite crunchy enough to hang with supermoms who somehow managed to make locally-bought organic meals, keep up with the ever-changing science of mothering, and somehow convince their five year olds to stay in a rear-facing carseat. But I also wasn’t the opposite – I couldn’t quite relax if the chest clip on the carseat wasn’t right where it was supposed to be and there never seemed an occasion where soda was appropriate for a toddler. I, like most moms, saw mothering as my priority. I don’t think whether you give your child a candybar or a homemade, oat-rolled, flax seed with hippie plant extract creation for a snack has any bearing on how much we love our children or how important we feel our role in raising them is . It’s just a matter of what we deem paramount in the whole grand scheme of life.
Realizing that in raising children, we are not only charged with their physical, mental or spiritual well-being but all of the above, and easily some parents will choose one to focus their efforts on and shine in that area but may struggle in another. Also, we are all at different stages. My capabilities now with a two year old and a four year old have hugely improved from when I had a one year old and a three year old. I wanted a place where moms measured up. I wanted to share my experiences and hope that other moms felt encouraged and not defeated, knowing that despite our best intentions, life happens.
So what was I after? What did I want my blog to say? I really wanted a judgment-free zone that picked up on the very fabric of motherhood. I wanted to be honest about my struggles because during my most challenging times, as I would surf the net for moms who also might be struggling, I found that so many bloggers were triumphant and that just wasn’t how I always felt. I didn’t want to always hear about the perfect family outing. One thing I can tell you about my life is that it is NOT perfect. And, it’s hard. Not like, digging in the trenches hard, but I can’t whip up a batch of instant oatmeal without feeling that I’ve been taxed, so thanks for the do-it-yourself recipe, I put it in my recipe book, which looks surprisingly much like a garbage can. Seriously, this whole gig has called me to rise above the couch cushions and that has been a challenge. I’m not knocking the “Mom Can Do It All” blogs. They have been a great resource for me, but I wanted that slice of reality. That’s what I hoped Balabusta Mom would be. Like a little window into a world full of frustration, surprise and unending joy.
A couple of months ago, two of my friends and I started a website, www.balabustamom.com. We also have a facebook page www.facebook.com/balabustamom where we share other Mommyblogs as well as anything we think would be entertaining or useful to our readers. We are still in the beginning stages, but I’m so super excited about this website because I believe it is a community that supports each other. It is a place where rocker mom, single mom, granola mom, homeschooling mom, Christian mom, fitness fanatic mom and everyone in between can unite about one thing…at the end of the day, we love our kids and while we may not always know what we’re doing, we’re doing it the best we know how and we will continue to do it because…yeah, we love our kids.
You might find more stories like this….
Okay, here is a true story, and I probably shouldn’t even share this with my diary, but on Monday I was just kicked from the crazy weekend so when the hubby came in to tell me it was 6:30 a.m. and he needed to leave for work, I begged him to take the day off so I could sleep in. He’s a nice guy, so he obliged and sleep in I did. Until 8:30 a.m. Awesome! I woke up just after I would usually do my workout so I guess I was done with it, right? Yup, slept in, skipped my workout (after skipping it all weekend) and made the kids breakfast because I guessed the corn chips my husband had supplied them just might not last until lunch.
It was a beautiful day, although Landon had a cold and despite my begging he continually smeared snot across his face and cried every time I tried to clean it. Life is short, I thought, why not just leave it. So the kids played outside in the sandbox, which is not a sandbox at all, it’s actually a dirt box, and the husband and I cleaned out the garage and enjoyed catching up on what awesome people we are.
We had a plan to feed them lunch and then drive them around until they fell asleep so that I could go to the bank and open a business account for a little side work I’ve been doing, and that way if he had to sign something to be on the account, I could run out to the car with the sleeping kids and send him in to sign it. Then we would stop at the grocery story to grab diapers and off to the afternoon chiropractor appointments. It was the perfect plan, only Corbin (2yrs) refused to fall asleep so when time no longer allowed us to drive in circles, we figured he could just sit and play with his toes while I ran in to open the account. I went in with my binder where I had collected every piece of paper they might ask me for in order to open the account, and despite my hoodie with a giant snot smear on the right-shoulder (thanks Landon) and my unshowered hair pulled back in a weary ponytail, I was pretty excited that I was actually opening a bank account because I had actually made money at my very own business. It was a moment!
I handed over my DBA and was asked for my tax-id number. Womp! I forgot to print that out. I said “wow. I forgot it. This really turns my day to poop.” the banker chuckled and asked “do you live far away.” “No.” I answered, “but my kids are sleeping in the car with my husband and….well I’ll come back tomorrow. It’s cool.” I took my snot-smeared hoodie, and left. There was still time to go to the grocery store before our appointments. Corbin was restless so I brought him in with me and I buckled him in the the cart. BIG MISTAKE! What was I thinking? Corbin, hates to be strapped. So I unstrapped him, but alas it was too late. The fury was released and he cried…no, SCREAMED the entire time in the store. Until we got in the check-out lane where he calmly pointed to all the candy “what’s that?” and suddenly he forgot my efforts to imprison him and smiled at me, touched my nose and said “nose nose nose.” I wanted to be mad at him, but he was all too cute so I smiled and instantly my regret of bringing him into the store vanished as he pet my cheeks and giggled at me for no apparent reason. The cart ride back to the car was a treasured one. It was sunny out, and Corbin excitedly pointed to every car, bird, person and asked “what’s that?” When we got back to the car, my husband was napping, and Landon was still sleeping. We had just enough time to stop at home so I could feed everyone a snack before we left.
When we got home, Corbin got out of the car to play in the dirt box where he apparently took off his shoes and socks. Landon woke up, refused a snack, smeared more snots on his face, didn’t want to get out of the car, and waited for us all to go to our chiropractor appointments. Finally there we were, and I realize that Landon has no shoes on, Corbin has no shoes or socks and is covered from head to toe in dirt which looks much more appealing than the snot covered face that Landon is sporting, and I’m still in my snot-smeared hoodie, with my greasy hairy, only now my pants are covered in dirt (thank you Corbin) and I’m thinking “what? are we these people?” I look around hoping to find another shoeless, dirty kid to make us feel right at home but instead everyone looks like they’ve dressed for a red carpet event.
After getting our adjustments and getting the kids back in the car, I looked at my husband, feeling like we had successfully made it through the bulk of our day, I said what has become an on-going joke in our home “Balabusta!” This is what I say when we have overcome our own little victories, where to the rest of the world, we might have looked like the gypsy thieves of some orphan children, but we know that we had a productive day, and despite the imperfections, we are happy with the end results.
A Balabusta Mom does not make every situation the best, but she does tend to make the best of every situation. We have found a great community of moms who share this belief. My cousin once said of me, “you have the life of no one’s envy but you truly love it.” That quote tickled me. Well, she was right about one thing, I do love it, and I might not have a knack for making it look effortless and you might catch me in the grocery store with a lonely tear running down my tired cheek, but I feel like the luckiest girl in the world because at the end of the day….Balabusta!
