Scarlett sits sweetly; no squiggles. She waits her turn, listens intently, and cheers on her “friends.” My toddler squirms. I have to tell her a million times to sit. She jumps up before it is her turn and doesn’t cheer for her friends. But, I’m ok with it because she isn’t even 3 yet. They aren’t robots! My mom always tells me that. She told me that when my toddler was a baby and wouldn’t nap. She told me that when she started the terrible two’s and she tells me that now as she squirms through gym class. I can’t make her be perfect in gym class just like I can’t make her eat her vegetables every day. She is who she is. She has a personality and it is hers! So, I don’t get upset when she rolls around while everyone else is doing their stretches in synchronization; arms up and down…
On the other hand, Scarlett’s mom is a different story. She does all the dance moves in class; throws her hands in the air, and over exaggerates the shakes and twirls. I have my baby in the bjourn so I really can’t do a lot of the twists and turns. I do them half way. I hope I’m smiling. Probably not. Scarlett and her mom dance together in perfect harmony. Scarlett’s Mom laughs at the teacher’s jokes and truly looks more than happy to be there. She throws her head back in delight when her daughter says something silly. She is involved, present, and apparently raising a very well-behaved child. She isn’t going through the motions; she is leading the class. So….why do I want to smack her? Is that bad?
It feels like she is the classic over achiever. You know the one that feeds her child all organic food; and wouldn’t dare give her child potato chips to keep her quiet. God Forbid she shows up to the toddler gym class with a messy bun and food in her teeth. If she did, well then I could relate. But, I cannot relate to her, at all. I love normalcy. I love people who can admit that they aren’t perfect; that they have bad days too. I love moms who make me feel like I’m on the same page. That it’s ok not to be perfect. Nobody likes to feel less than anyone. I sure don’t. But, when I hang around Scarlett and her mom, I feel like an under-achieving mom. Look, I’m seeing .1% of her day. I get that. It’s kind of like facebook. You see the best that people want to put out there. The best pictures. The best status updates. The cropped and perfectly lit pictures of their children. We get the show. A well managed show. And, this could be a show as well. Maybe she breaks down in tears when she gets home, screaming and shouting at her husband, “I cannot do this anymore!!!” Or maybe, she smiles through gritted teeth and says, “Dinner is on the table.” Maybe Scarlett throws the biggest tantrums behind closed doors. Or maybe she plays quietly in the corner while her mom chops up organic vegetables. And Scarlett says, "I cannot wait to eat my beets." I don’t know. I don’t really care. Let them be them. If she is truly just a wonderful, perfect mom, God bless. But, if she is putting on a show for our benefit, I feel sorry for her.
Whatever the case may be, I’m not trying to judge her. I’m just trying to be real. I’m trying to relate to other moms so when I’m hunched in a corner holding back tears while my toddler cries and my baby is scratching at my arms; that I’m not alone. I don’t want to be an under-achiever. I don’t want to be an over achiever. I just want to achieve life in a real way, with real people, and real love.
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