Forgive me, almighty Super Mom (if you even exist), for I have sinned.
I yelled at my husband over Tupperware – yes, Tupperware – because I was stressed out about work. And I made my son grilled cheese for dinner instead of slaving over a pot of homemade vegetable stew.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for my Christmas tree is still standing- and it’s January 31st, and last night I watched American Idol instead of balancing my checkbook.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for sometimes I get bored of reading Elmo Loves You to my son over and over and over again, even though I know it’s his favorite book, and I’ve only been to the gym, let me think, three times in the past two years. And it took me nine months to fit back into my jeans after giving birth; I’m sorry I missed my six-week deadline.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for it takes me about two weeks to return any of my friends’ phone calls, and when I finally do, I hang up feeling jealous because my weekend didn’t consist of shopping, drinking, dating and sleeping until 10 AM.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for I barely have enough time to go to the bathroom myself let alone walk the dog three times a day.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for my career is not where I thought it would be at 29, and sometimes I don’t want to work AT ALL!
Forgive me, Super Mom, for I send almost everyone’s birthday cards out late, and you can forget about me remembering anniversaries; the other day I had to think for a minute when someone asked when my own was.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for I spent full price for my groceries the other day because I didn’t have time to coupon clip, and I filled my tank at the most convenient gas station – not the cheapest.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for I went to bed the other night fully aware that I had clothes in the washing machine that needed to go in the dryer, and I didn’t want to have sex with my husband for the same reason I didn’t put the clothes in the dryer: because my day consisted of three previous loads of laundry, five errands, one Mommy & Me class and two temper tantrums.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for I invited my parents over for lunch the other day, and they had to bring their own lunch. I did, however, bake them cookies, but forgive me – they were slice ‘n bake.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for I go to work with no makeup on because I’d rather sleep the ten extra minutes. So no, I don’t ALWAYS look my best.
Forgive me, Super Mom, for I’m sitting at my desk writing this essay instead of writing the column that my editor wants completed by tomorrow. Can you ever forgive me, almighty Super Mom? Wait, who cares? I’ve forgiven myself.
Yor are forgiven! You and Superdad are doing a great job. When everything seems to be out of whack, you two should realize that you are facing the same problems many young families deal with, and you are doing an extordinary job balancing all aspects of life.
ISF, March 9 2007awesome
tommy hughes, March 11 2007
I love my favorite mom who doesn’t want to put laundry in and who always looks great, not matter what she thinks. To me (and the rest of her friends who I can assure you are not all out until 2 AM drinking and sleeping until 10 AM) she’s perfect and I can only hope that when it’s my turn, I can be as perfect as her.
Am, March 6 2007