10-9-01, Side Streets, Kimra Traynor Herb, 840 words
Super Dud Mom
By Kimra Traynor Herb
IPS Features
Try as I may, I am just
not a "supermom". Instead, I am more of a "super dud" or
maybe "superoverwhelmed". I often blow off PTA meetings; I am
frequently absent from Band Boosters "special organizational planning
sessions" and my children are frequently bringing home messages which
"URGE" me to become more active. I just don't
know how they do it; these super-moms. There is one mom, who lives in my
neighborhood and who manages every aspect of the concession stands (oh yes,
there are five or six of them) for every varsity, jr. varsity, freshman, and jr.
high school event.
In addition, she
is in charge of rounding up volunteers for the numerous fund-raisers the band
holds; and handles assignments for chaperones for the away games. She does all
of this while I barely manage to get my son's black socks washed in time for the
next week's game.
Right now, the
logistics of my life frighten me. Monday nights I pick my oldest son up from
band practice. Tuesdays, I lay out soccer clothing for my two younger boys,
drive through a fast-food establishment and buy dinner for my oldest and two of
his band friends, pick them up and drive them all to soccer practice.
They skillfully
manage to consume vast amounts of greasy fried food while we fly, at the speed
of sound (okay, not really) to the soccer field where they change into their
soccer clothing and begin practice. Meanwhile, my hubby ferries the other two to
practice at the same time. Wednesdays I have bible study, violin lessons
(oh, that's a story for another day....) a playdate for my youngest son, and
choir practice for myself. Thursdays dedicated to soccer-mania; three different
children in three different directions- you can imagine how well I feed them on
the brief "down" time between school and practices. Fridays, for the
first time ever in my life, are focused around football.
We drive my son
to the game, and then begin our work at the concession stand to make money for
the band (you know, because that aforementioned "supermom" was sure to
call and line us up for the home game). Saturdays are soccer games, which start
at 9 a.m. and usually end at about 4 p.m. Sundays are church, and then
afternoons are dedicated to my husband's over 30 league in soccer. At 5 it is
back to the church for children's choir, which I direct, and we are back home by
8:30 or so....... and then on Monday the whole cycle starts over again.
Toss in a few
days a week at my youngest's kindergarten class, volunteering or just spending
time with the kids, my book-writing effort, and (ugh) housework and cooking.....
and there you have my life. It doesn't sound so
awfully hard, when I read over it..... and yet, I keep coming up short.
I didn't really
realize it, not fully, until some of the "supermoms" reminded me that
I had signed up do work at the "band-a-thon" last week, and oops, when
I showed up with my lawn chair.... all happy and ready to watch the bands;
I received scowls from the bake sale booth. In my defense, however, they had not
called me to remind me of my bake selling duties, so how was I supposed to
remember? When I use logic like that; I sound suspiciously like my own
children, who drive me nuts with their inability to remember any of their
responsibilities.
Or, when I
called to see if a friend and I were still "on" to get our children
together to play after school, she said, "oh, well, you DO realize that
there is a P.T.A. supper that night?"
I mumbled
something about, oh, forgetting, and of course it was right there, in the back
of my mind........
"Well, we are going; and we need to be there by five o'clock; that really
doesn't give us much time after school to get schoolwork done, so I don't think
we'll be able to get together. Will we see you there?"
I coughed and
mumbled "maybe", which I know, is pathetic, but due to the fact that
Monday evenings and Wednesday evenings are the only times we sit down as a
collective family and dine together upon whatever feast I have prepared, I did
not relish the thought of forfeiting my family time for some overcooked PTA
spaghetti.
You see? It's
logic like that which is going to keep me out of that "supermom" club
for life.
But I am going
to try not to spend all my time brooding about being left out of the exclusive
"supermom" status, and instead focus on what is going on right around
here: I have three relatively (I think) healthy children who will all be
gathered around the table twice a week, when schedules allow.... to complain in
unison about the meal I have fixed for the family that evening. What more could
any super-overwhelmed, super-dud mother ask
for?