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| Watch your back, the floor, and your heart when these guys are around. |
Here's just a few of the many ways:
- The Newborn Burn
Stitches, hemorrhoids, tender tatas... those first few weeks are the pop quiz of Mom pain and you forgot to prepare, even when the birth injuries start to heal, that darling 7-8-9-10lb baby in a few weeks will be a 9-10-11-12 pounder and hauling that darling and their endless gear is a "feel the burn" kind of workout that doesn't end for a good 2 years.
- Brutal Babies
One day your child is a sweet snugly angel, sucking on her clinched fists, swaddled in your arms, the next day the arms are flailing and those clinched fists have become velcro mitts ready to grab and grasp anything with in reach. Favorites include: your ears, handfuls of hair, your nose, your favorite necklace and occasionally they'll get in a good eye poke or head butt to your mouth or nose and you're left looking like you just went 10 rounds with that know-it-all-mom down the street. Why must face holes be so enticing and baby heads so hard. I'm pretty sure the inventor of Scünci hair binders was a mom just trying to save what was left of her hair.
- Tough Toddlers
A year or two of hauling your spawn has left you with enviable biceps, but the added strength doesn't always make up for the awkward stances you have to take when holding your well-coordinated toddler. No, you don't need the help of a tiny hand when writing a check, answering your phone or stirring the mac & cheese, but they refuse to believe you're capable of managing these tasks on your own. The result is awkward hip angles, neck stretching and back twisting that leaves you hoping there's still time for a hot bath at the end of the day. Spoiler Alert: Not gonna happen.
- You're Killing Me Kids!
Once the children can be trusted to walk on their own, your spine starts to straighten and your head can safely center itself over your body, but the hurt doesn't end. Whether you're hauling a dead fish tantrum thrower out of a store (how do they make their 50lbs feel like a 100?) Or just poor decision making, like when I thought 3 weeks after gall bladder surgery I could carry my sleeping seven year old to her bed, only to tear some not quite yet healed stomach muscles. The bigger kids bring the pain with their pounds, they also bring a new kind of hurt...
- Don't Go Breakin' My Heart
You send your kids off to school with hugs and smiles, knowing full well you're throwing them to the wolves. Sure enough, they bring home heartache. It's impossible to prepare them for a world where they aren't the center. It's impossible to explain why people are mean. Why "so & so" says you can play with her one day and not the next. Why they didn't get the part in the the school play they wanted. Because if it were up to you, they'd get everything they want. So you join in their misery, but a mom's heart breaks twice, once for their pain and once for not being able to make it better for them. The same goes when your child is sick or injured. It hurts to see them hurt, that's how you know you're doing this mom thing right.
- Insane in the Brain Pain
Children bring the noise. Before kids the sound in your home was mostly controlled - the music was loud when you wanted, there was silence when you wanted, when you heard a strange sound, you could usually find it without too much trouble. But, the baby bag of tricks is mostly noise, uncontrolled noise, noise from them, noise from their things and eventually strange noises from their battery depleting toys, and a whole room to search for the Stinky the Garbage Truck that's saying in a low, creepy, dying battery voice "Heh. Heh. Thaaaaaat'sssss Grrrrroooossss!" All that noise usually ends in a pounding headache and sometimes a sore throat from all that yelling at them to be quiet...because that always works.
- Weapons of Mass Foot Destruction
My kids love to collect weapons of mass foot destruction, from Monster High Doll shoes to Legos and Hotwheels cars with hard little spoilers. You learn to walk so your feet brush the ground before you fully step down, and night vision goggles are a must for the 10PM bed check. Even the most innocent looking jacket left on the kitchen floor can bring immense pain when you land on a zipper just right.
- Self-Inflicted Wounds
Self-inflicted pain is the most common in love, especially the unconditional, from my loins, type of love. Of course you want the best for your kids. You think you know what they will enjoy, so you plan something special for them and it's received without the anticipated, "I love you Mom! You're the best, most amazing, hilarious, and down right beautifulist mom in the whole world... wait, universe!". Okay.. that may have been expecting a bit much as a reaction for a surprise trip down to the beach before running errands, but, they could have at least given a tiny jump for joy. Next time we'll just go straight to the grocery store.
- Back to the Burn...
My kids are getting older and I find as the physical demands of care decrease, the mental and emotional elements increase, along with the levels of acid in my stomach. Before one month is done, the next is full of obligations, doctor's appointments, dance, nature club, school events - just trying to remember when to pick up who is a challenge, let alone which kid definitely needs cold lunch because they are on a field trip that day. And, that doesn't even take into account my own work, household chores and the dozen loads of dirty laundry that await me each weekend. The answer: Tum Ta Tum Tums. Some maybe able to handle all that with style and grace. I, on the other hand, am a tornado of blond hair, weekly planner pages and Tums causing a path of destruction while trying to get my world under control. My middle name is Ironic. The stress is probably doing irreparable damage I won't won't learn about for years, but all the calcium in the antacids should at least protect me from osteoporosis, right?
I'm sure the worst is yet to come when my kids enter the teen years and bed time snuggles that help heal the pains of the day are replaced with a "knock, knock, good night" on a bedroom door. That's why moms suffer the baby head butts, heartbreaks and stress with a smile (even if forced or wine induced). Unconditional love hurts, but it's for the most precious of people, our darling kiddos, and who wouldn't endure anything for them.
Stitches, hemorrhoids, tender tatas... those first few weeks are the pop quiz of Mom pain and you forgot to prepare, even when the birth injuries start to heal, that darling 7-8-9-10lb baby in a few weeks will be a 9-10-11-12 pounder and hauling that darling and their endless gear is a "feel the burn" kind of workout that doesn't end for a good 2 years.
One day your child is a sweet snugly angel, sucking on her clinched fists, swaddled in your arms, the next day the arms are flailing and those clinched fists have become velcro mitts ready to grab and grasp anything with in reach. Favorites include: your ears, handfuls of hair, your nose, your favorite necklace and occasionally they'll get in a good eye poke or head butt to your mouth or nose and you're left looking like you just went 10 rounds with that know-it-all-mom down the street. Why must face holes be so enticing and baby heads so hard. I'm pretty sure the inventor of Scünci hair binders was a mom just trying to save what was left of her hair.
A year or two of hauling your spawn has left you with enviable biceps, but the added strength doesn't always make up for the awkward stances you have to take when holding your well-coordinated toddler. No, you don't need the help of a tiny hand when writing a check, answering your phone or stirring the mac & cheese, but they refuse to believe you're capable of managing these tasks on your own. The result is awkward hip angles, neck stretching and back twisting that leaves you hoping there's still time for a hot bath at the end of the day. Spoiler Alert: Not gonna happen.
Once the children can be trusted to walk on their own, your spine starts to straighten and your head can safely center itself over your body, but the hurt doesn't end. Whether you're hauling a dead fish tantrum thrower out of a store (how do they make their 50lbs feel like a 100?) Or just poor decision making, like when I thought 3 weeks after gall bladder surgery I could carry my sleeping seven year old to her bed, only to tear some not quite yet healed stomach muscles. The bigger kids bring the pain with their pounds, they also bring a new kind of hurt...
You send your kids off to school with hugs and smiles, knowing full well you're throwing them to the wolves. Sure enough, they bring home heartache. It's impossible to prepare them for a world where they aren't the center. It's impossible to explain why people are mean. Why "so & so" says you can play with her one day and not the next. Why they didn't get the part in the the school play they wanted. Because if it were up to you, they'd get everything they want. So you join in their misery, but a mom's heart breaks twice, once for their pain and once for not being able to make it better for them. The same goes when your child is sick or injured. It hurts to see them hurt, that's how you know you're doing this mom thing right.
Children bring the noise. Before kids the sound in your home was mostly controlled - the music was loud when you wanted, there was silence when you wanted, when you heard a strange sound, you could usually find it without too much trouble. But, the baby bag of tricks is mostly noise, uncontrolled noise, noise from them, noise from their things and eventually strange noises from their battery depleting toys, and a whole room to search for the Stinky the Garbage Truck that's saying in a low, creepy, dying battery voice "Heh. Heh. Thaaaaaat'sssss Grrrrroooossss!" All that noise usually ends in a pounding headache and sometimes a sore throat from all that yelling at them to be quiet...because that always works.
My kids love to collect weapons of mass foot destruction, from Monster High Doll shoes to Legos and Hotwheels cars with hard little spoilers. You learn to walk so your feet brush the ground before you fully step down, and night vision goggles are a must for the 10PM bed check. Even the most innocent looking jacket left on the kitchen floor can bring immense pain when you land on a zipper just right.
Self-inflicted pain is the most common in love, especially the unconditional, from my loins, type of love. Of course you want the best for your kids. You think you know what they will enjoy, so you plan something special for them and it's received without the anticipated, "I love you Mom! You're the best, most amazing, hilarious, and down right beautifulist mom in the whole world... wait, universe!". Okay.. that may have been expecting a bit much as a reaction for a surprise trip down to the beach before running errands, but, they could have at least given a tiny jump for joy. Next time we'll just go straight to the grocery store.
My kids are getting older and I find as the physical demands of care decrease, the mental and emotional elements increase, along with the levels of acid in my stomach. Before one month is done, the next is full of obligations, doctor's appointments, dance, nature club, school events - just trying to remember when to pick up who is a challenge, let alone which kid definitely needs cold lunch because they are on a field trip that day. And, that doesn't even take into account my own work, household chores and the dozen loads of dirty laundry that await me each weekend. The answer: Tum Ta Tum Tums. Some maybe able to handle all that with style and grace. I, on the other hand, am a tornado of blond hair, weekly planner pages and Tums causing a path of destruction while trying to get my world under control. My middle name is Ironic. The stress is probably doing irreparable damage I won't won't learn about for years, but all the calcium in the antacids should at least protect me from osteoporosis, right?
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