Self Pity Monster

This is not an easy one to post because recognizing my own flaws is a lot less comforting than remembering my mom and the joy she brought (and hopefully brings in these stories) to others. Acknowledging my weaknesses should be a first step to making some changes, but change is hard.

Self Pity Monster

                The Self Pity Monster is one of the ugliest monsters that I’ve ever seen with bloodshot, puffy eyes, runny waterproof mascara, swollen chapped lips, and a frown that would curdle milk even if it were turned upside down. The Self Pity Monster is sneaky, making little itty bitty appearances in a way that seem very temporary and then BAM! Full-force SP Monster in the mirror!

                After a full day of electrical work, Jeff was working on a project with a fast approaching deadline, so Addie and I were going to join two couples with their two-year-olds for an evening of play, food, and then sleeping for the kids, painting for the moms, and whatever for the dads. I left my house with Addie at about 4:15 with my hopes for a successful evening high. I thought, Oh, it will be such a beautiful evening and so much fun, I will be inspired to write an amazing post when I get home! Little did I know that the brief appearance by the SP Monster earlier in the day had settled into the backseat of the car to make sure it took charge while we were away from home.

                We were unloading the car as the third child pulled up. The girls greeted each other with smiles and hugs, and when we got inside, the little boy got the same greeting. Magical, I thought as I watched the three darlings play with cars and kitchen sets and bugs that crawl down the window. The other moms and I chatted as we watched this happening, and the dads went outside to start grilling. It’s really no big deal that Jeff couldn’t make it. We’re doing our thing and we aren’t even around the guys.

                And then there was a knock on the door. I heard a woman’s friendly voice. Must be a neighbor, but then into the kitchen walked the mother and stepfather one of my friends, and the SP Monster whipped through the kitchen.

                Hm. Maybe I was supposed to invite Dad. At least Becky (my sister) will be here after the kids go to bed, and in the back door walked the parents of the other friend!

                This is a little awkward. Maybe I should have stayed home. The SP Monster had taken a seat on a stool near where I was standing to watch broccoli boil and had a stupid ugly grin on its face.

                The kids continued on with their play, but since grandparents had arrived and were naturally doting on their adorable grandchildren. My child either sensed that something was not right with Mommy or noticed that she wasn’t getting quite the fuss that the others were getting, so she started throwing herself into conversations and literally into the lap of another mom who had just done a cute flip with her little one.

                So there I was, hanging out in the kitchen with the SP Monster, feeling sorry for my little girl because she didn’t have a grandparent there to engage her in play and to make sure she was eating her dinner and to brag about all of the wonderful things she does, and why brag about your own child to a grandparent of another? Through the lens of a grandparent, my amazing child’s wonderful accomplishments mean nothing. So then I’m feeling even sorrier for my child because she doesn’t even have a mother who will go to bat for her because she’s so busy feeling sorry for her SP-Monster-self.

                There we were, our fun evening out with friends and all I could do was watch. I watched my daughter and her friends being silly and having fun. I watched my friends with their husbands together making decisions for their toddlers. I watched my friends with their parents, sharing in memories and reflecting on similarities to when they were kids. I watched the spouses with their in-laws, being polite and sophisticated. I watched the evening happen all around me and I felt the SP Monster completely take over.

                I put my toddler in her pajamas. I talked to her and rocked her and sang to her and loved her, and when she didn’t want to go to sleep because she wanted to play at this exciting house, I felt the tears of the SP Monster roll down my face. I wouldn’t be painting. I wouldn’t be chatting. I wouldn’t be girl-nighting. I would be driving home to tuck my toddler into her own bed while my friends and their moms enjoyed Canvas and Cocktails in the comfort of my friend’s house.

                My mom wouldn’t have done that. My mom would have bragged about her kids, pointed out the amazing things her kids were doing, just to make sure people noticed how Greg had taken apart a computer and put it back together more efficiently, or how far Dan threw a perfect spiral. My mom wouldn’t have cared if the grandparents thought it was impressive that Becky broke her arm in two places and pulled off her favorite sweater so that it wasn’t cut. She wouldn’t have told them anyway because kids need to hear that someone thinks the things they are doing are amazing.

                My baby is amazing. Did I let her down by not bragging about her? Did I disappoint her by trying to get her to sleep in her friend’s guest bed? Have I destroyed my two-year-old’s self-esteem because I cried in the dark as I rocked her because I was feeling sorry for myself?

                Probably not. But I’ve got to get rid of this monster before I do!