Used To Be Super-Mom


Lately I have been posting a lot about losing my mind. I wish I could do a post for you with tips for inexpensive Halloween costumes or tricks for getting toddlers to eat their veggies but from here at the intersection of Fried and Frazzled, I can only offer an exasperated sigh and run my fingers through my long overdue for a deep conditioning hair. I’m running on empty.

Sun-Bun started kindergarten in August and for the first month I was Super-Mom. Each morning we were out the door for seven, needing to first drop Pookie at daycare, then Sun-Bun to the school yard and then me to the office for eight (the school bell rings at 7:35). Lunches were packed the night before, outfits were color coordinated, niceties were exchanged with parents and each teacher’s newsletter was read as if it were a press release from the White House. I felt good. I felt in control.

Then slowly, my mojo began to fade. I hit snooze on the alarm at five each morning, pulling the sheets up tight around my neck not wanting to think about the morning whining “I’m tired” or endless add-ons for daycare and school “It’s purple day!” or “Remember three dollars for smoothies!” Lunches fizzled from sandwiches cut into fun shapes to whatever I could find in the fridge, until even that ran dry and on one particularly bad day Sun-Bun’s lunch consisted of Saltines with jam, a banana and two Tic-tac’s. Pookie went on a favorite shirt kick and insisted on wearing the same t-shirt. Every. Day. I lacked the strength or creativity to persuade him to change until his preschool teacher commented on the number of macaroni and cheese stains on it. I looked no better myself, with minimal make-up and my hair pulled into a pony tail to hide the need to color my growing grey streaks.

Now this is where I would provide a turning point. A shining light moment where I discovered what I really needed was some Hot Yoga or switched from coffee to green tea or quit my job and opened an online boutique selling lavender scented sleep masks. Alas, I have not. I look at the Holiday décor popping up in the stores and I am gripped by the need to go to bed and not get back out until the New Year. I am fried, I am frazzled and if I carry on at my current trajectory I am pretty sure within a few weeks I won’t have to worry about trying to get myself out of bed, it simply won’t be an option. I shall lay with my head on the pillow while my children gently stroke my hair (now completely grey), offer me Jell-O, bow their heads and whisper to each other “She used to be Super.”



About Tina

Tina lives in Phoenix, the Valley of the Sun(burn). She is mother to daughter “Sun-Bun”, b.2007 and son “Pookie”, b.2009 and Blue, the saddest bulldog in the world. She is married to a quirky man from Trinidad, which Tina is pretty sure is Spanish for “land of sexy dancers.” During the day Tina works in wireless telecommunications, spreading cell phone signals to all corners of the country - including your car (but please don’t text and drive). Tina suffers from parenting esteem issues which she attempts to mask with sarcasm and wine. She strongly believes that if Virginia Woolf had been a mother she would have penned, “A Bathroom of One’s Own.” She is also convinced that Nature may well be a mother, but the destructive forces of gravity could only have come from a man. When she is not aimlessly wandering the grocery store aisles, digging BPA-free sippy cups out of the back of her minivan or patrolling her home for scorpions, Tina can be also be found at Three In the Bed.

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3 Responses to Used To Be Super-Mom

  1. ยูนิฟอร์ม September 21, 2005 at 3:48 pm #

    magnificent post, very informative. I wonder why the other experts of this sector do not understand this.
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  2. avatar
    Christina-Marie, aka The Gonzo Mama October 7, 2012 at 8:51 pm #

    Tina, I SO feel you… My mojo is out of whack, too.

    My hair was beyond “out-of-control…” So bad, in fact, Mr. Wright scheduled me for a trim because he couldn’t stand looking at it. When I dragged myself into the salon, my stylist said, “I know you think you only need a trim, but damn, Girl…! You’re sitting in that chair until I’m done with you.”

    The house looks like a cyclone tore through, the laundry room is so overburdened it’s creating a sort of Skynet-type consciousness and planning a revolt, and the kids are reliving the Lord of the Flies book.

    Is there a 12-step program or something we can join?

  3. Linda October 8, 2012 at 2:54 pm #

    Tina . . . oh how you have captured what I go through every school year. I never can predict when I’m going to lose my steam but it always happens. This article makes me smile. The writing is really, really good. Honest. Funny. Love it! And I suspect that I’d love you too! Hang in there sister! You’ll get your mojo back! ;-) And you can color the grey away whenever you damn well feel like it!