The Mom Club

Before I had children, I really could have cared about kids and "what's best for them," etc. etc. I was girl who would cry over horses caught in floods, but when a child was hit by a car, I thought it was sad, but it wasn't anything I felt I needed to cry about. I mean, kids get hurt. Since having a child however, I can hardly watch the local news (oh the horrors and hazards in life!), but if there is a story that has to do with a child, then I can hardly take it.

I guess this is step one of being in The Mom Club. You change. I never once in my life thought I'd just in front of a train for anyone. I love my husband, but if he's crossing the track and a train's coming, I might offer a "Hey, watch out" or maybe even grab for him, but I wonder, would I leap in front of the train to push him off? I'd do that for my daughter.

There were things about becoming a mom that I just didn't expect. Like the vomit thing. If someone even starts to throw-up, I go into dry heaves right next to them. I'm like their cute twin playing "mirror" at their side. I can't stand vomit, not even my own. I'm more afraid of the stomach flu than public speaking. Yet, when my daughter at 2 1/2 became the vomitting head from the Exocist, I did not run or gag, I held her, told her she was okay, as she threw up all over my new Gap sweater.

This acceptance of vomit amazes me. In a way, I feel like a superhero. I never had powers that would allow me the freedom not to fall apart when someone prays to the porcelain god. But now, I can be the one who gets a towel instead of excusing herself to another neighborhood. Sorry, but I parked my car in Kansas and I must retrieve it now.

I never realized I could be that mama bear, the superwoman who will battle snot and stomach flu. It amazes me now when I look at other mothers and know that many of them also possess these secret powers. To stay up all night with the sick child, not because we *have to,* but because at those moments, every diploma, every promotion, every Pottery Barn item we've ever owned doesn't matter because we were created, put on this earth for one reason, and she's sick now. The world stops and we realize how much we don't need and exactly who we do.

Now that the dishes are done, I'll introduce myself. . .

Beyond the dirty dishes is a life drying on a rack. I'd like to say I'm the crystal cake stand, but I am more the frying pan: useful and durable. I've started this blog to reflect on my ordinary life and appreciate the extrodinariness of simplicity mixed with shot of chaos. In the last six years since my daughter was born, I've wondered what I used to do with all that free time.

I'm here to tell it all, the good, the bad, and the dusty. To share with you what other mothers don't say because too often I watch women produce to the showcase life like on The Price is Right-- they are there with the trips to Hawaii, matching ceramic dalmations at the door, a new Kitchen Aid blender, and (say it) a Brand New Car! Yet, look a little deeper behind showcase. The car is being leased, the blender was purchased on credit, and no one had fun on their family vacation. It's what we were taught since we were young: don't tell them that.

I hope to provide the daily life from the perspective of a stay-at-home mom with a six-year-old daughter, the wife of a firefighter, someone who lives in a small rainy town not far from a large city, who is going to receive her master's degree this summer, but who doesn't want to go back to work, someone at 37 who knows what she wants to be when she grows up, but who doesn't want to grow up, not yet, and not completely.