When I started this blog, it was basically just people I knew reading it. And they knew me, and knew my sense of humor, and so I could kind of be unfiltered and random, because that’s basically me. I knew that I loved to write, and more than that, that I loved to make people laugh. I was sucked into Pinterest, shockingly, because I wasn’t THAT KIND of mom. I’m not crafty or good with tools or dates. I can’t tell you how many field trips my oldest child has missed because I forgot the permission slip or the money, or both. And the home improvement blogs; they were awesome, but they required the skill and money that I just didn’t have. I wanted to reach people like me; to show that if I can do it, seriously ANYONE can do it. I am, at heart, the lackadaisical mom. The tag line of “where apathy meets ambition” could be the story of my life. I have great ideas, great intentions, lofty goals, but I lose interest quickly, so it’s a battle of the wills to get things done.
It seems silly to quote a show, but watching this episode was a defining moment in my life. In Season 1 of Desperate Housewives, Lynette has a meltdown and is crying about how she’s this awful mother because everyone around her does it seamlessly. Bree, the perfect one, states “I used to get so upset when Andrew and Danielle were little, I used their nap times to cry.”
We all have that friend that does it flawlessly; that is the perfect mom that never yells and never forgets things and is such a good friend you don’t even feel worthy to have them in your lives.
I am not that person. And that’s ok, because I’m honest about that. I try hard to own my “junk”, while working to get past it. So my initial audience was people that knew me. That knew that I refer to my youngest child as “The Little Jerk” only on this site because I hesitated to use her real name, and that I love her so much that sometimes I sat and watched her sleep and cried with gratitude. She was never a jerk; she is a wonderful, loving, smart, precocious child that changed our family in ways I never thought possible.
My oldest daughter made me a mother, and she was patient while I learned that role. It didn’t come easily to me; I didn’t bond with her like they say you do, but you can’t say that out loud. Our relationship was a struggle at times, and in many ways, she helped raised me. She is very much an old soul, much wiser than I, and it was hard for me to relate to her at times because she was light years ahead of me in so many ways. She is the textbook oldest child, and I a textbook youngest child. In truth, my Jerk nickname for the youngest was a feeble attempt to cover up what I thought was an obvious difference in the kinds of bonds between the girls.
I’ve learned, though, that that is also ok. I love the oldest because she is reliable, predictable, obedient, optimistic, loving and absolutely nothing like me. I love the youngest because she is a spitfire and zany and has an inherently expressive face. And I have provided witty, sarcastic commentary since the day she was born that I feel is her inner monologue.
And all of you that know me know this, but now there are those of you that don’t know me now reading this, and it’s important that you know that I don’t actually think of my oldest as perfect and my youngest as nothing but trouble.
I have a wonderful husband who loves me for all my flaws and mistakes. I have fantastic friends that are the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Together, they hold me accountable, even when it’s really tough to, though maybe not often enough.
More importantly than anything else, though, is my relationship with God. That probably comes as a surprise, and that makes me sad. I don’t want to write a Christian blog, or shove scripture into random posts, but I don’t want people to be shocked to learn that. I stumble more than anything, and I fail daily, but my friends say I don’t give myself credit for my journey and where it’s taken me. And really, can you consider it a failure if you get back up?
I hope not, because if so, I fail at it all, and I just don’t believe that.
And so that’s me; The Lackadaisical Mom – the one that loves hard and tries hard, but doesn’t always get it done, or doesn’t get it right, and that’s ok.