I look out the front window as I watch the aftermath of
Hurricane Sandy unfold. We had it no
differently than anyone else in the Midwood section of Brooklyn last night;
Transformers popping like fireworks and the constant cry of fire trucks
circling the streets looking for live wires.
It isn’t a full 24 hours later, house shingles and stray branches
scatter the sidewalks as people pop their heads out from a crack in the front
doors like shy turtles. I stick my head
out too, but not to see if my car is still intact or whether the witch down the
block is buried under her house. I need
to come up for air!
Sandy has turned most
of us mom’s into short order cooks, recreational directors, peace keepers, law
enforcers, mind readers, and housekeepers.
Yes, I realize these are tasks that are usually scattered throughout our
week, but these last two days I’ve been immersed in the many definitions of
what mommies are to their kids.
One look at Instagram also has me squirming. Mothers baking, filling their freezers, arts
and crafts time, dressed from 8 am and all toothy smiles. I was proud to have canned tuna and corn
niblets in the pantry, but after seeing all the social media displaying works of the
Rachel Rays and Martha Stewarts, my once prided Duncan Hines cupcakes have me
feeling more like Betty Caca.
The need to post a Happy Life has turned into more pressure
than having both kids (and husband) hanging over my shoulder asking ‘what are
we going to do next?’
Some are even posting
their exercise schedules! Go figure. In
two days’ time I am feeling larger than life and have done nothing but enriched
the rump on which I sit. I can barely
sneak off to the bathroom for relief without the knock, knock, “What are you doing in there mom?” while just a few short blocks away there are
Super Moms who have added a ten mile run in the rubble to their lists of ‘to
do'-post natural disaster?!
As I stand by the front door taking in a full gust of Sandy,
I feel rejuvenated. Until I hear Mayor
Bloomberg’s announcement, that the NYC public school system will be shut for a
third glorious day. My left eye begins to twitch. “What are you doing out there mommy?!” I bite my lip. My kids-and their play dates
have found me... again.
I walk to the kitchen to find all of my untouched ingredients for making challah on the
counter…only counter productive. This is
my boring life at 3:38pm.
I take a seat in the den; with a few throw pillows, my kids, and their
noisy iPod games burying me deep into the foundation of the couch. I find my calm after the storm.
Alan is narrating his every move while right in front of me,
Joey is peeping out between the wooden shades and making excuses to go anywhere
that is not home with the wife and kids, and Joycee is propping herself on my
right hip like it’s an ottoman so she can watch SpongeBob. It’s these annoying little thingies that have
me smiling.
The sweet digital ting of my iPhone disrupts my flawed
perfection.
Email received: Late
school OPENING.
Never, have three words sounded soooo harmonious.
I repeat the sentence aloud, and when echoed…have
created a chasm in the serene mood of the room. Alan and Joycee are now howling about school. Joey is turning the volume up on the remote
while simultaneously shouting in a melodic outcry-“WHY CAN’T I HEAR ANYTHING!!!”
Call me evil, but if there’s any REAL honesty out there,
in the next 24 hours, I hope to see the many INSTAsmiles of Super Moms and FaceBook frowns of all the kiddies on their way back to the normalcy of an eight hour school day.
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| A nutritious breakfast before school has EVERYONE smiling! |
