I can. I can do it all. Or can I? I am working on my to-do list, checking things off and checking them twice. Kinda like Santa Claus. Except that fat bastard only has to run all over the world for one night, whereas I do it on a daily basis.
Figures.
Yes, I said that “F” word. Sorry. I don’t like the”F” word, but in this case, it fits. He’s the jolly old soul who’s belly is like a bowl full of jelly. Whatever, he’s gorged on cookies and milk and walks around like a hippo on two legs. Yet it’s ok. He’s Santa.
Let me tell you something, look at wealthy men built the same way and you will see an extraordinarily hot woman clinging to his arm. Let me tell you something else, it’s not because she dreams of climbing on top of him and screaming “let me get up you, you pot-bellied stallion, and ride!
Umm…nope.
It’s your green mister, your jack, your big hefty wallet and that fantastic pre-nup you gave her.
We are supposed to do it all, but let me tell you something, I am tired of doing it all. I work, I volunteer, I am the secretary of the PTA. Yet, it’s not enough in most peoples eyes.If I compared myself to other mommy’s, I would be an A++ #1 slack ass.
My friends and I call those Moms “Super Mom “insert name”. Seriously. Do these women with the perfect hair, immaculate make-up, ultra fit body, I can do it all and will do it all and put you to shame attitude, live on nothing but air and ritalin? Tell me your secrets. I beg you.
Because we have been led to believe we can do it all, but only if we keep doing everything else.
Then the criticism kicks in.
If I swear, if I say I have had a hell of day and need a drink. People are like “you’re just gonna get drunk” and then you are branded a drunk. Even if the bottle of vodka in my freezer has been in there for six months and is more than half full! Lord help if you mention that you are horny and wanna get laid. That just doesn’t work for that June Cleaver/Betty Crocker appearance we are supposed to exude.
So, I shall haul my ass back to the kitchen to make more Christmas goodies. Something I actually enjoy, but believe me I am not juggling this task with 50 others. It’s Christmas, I am taking it easy…and fixing up a nice goodie plate for Santa Claus.
Maybe he will bring me something nice.
It may not be a June Cleaver/Betty Crocker behavior, but it certainly is a Julia Child type behavior. Also, those perfectly coiffed moms at all times are not so perfectly coiffed inside. Have you ever talked to one of them?
Just had to add some food for thought. Keep doing what you are doing. It’s good work.