Dear Momma....

I wrote this back in September 2017.  The day before had been terrible. The next morning wasn't going really well and I had a moment of word vomit at lunch.  When I write something in a fit of passion normally I keep it to myself. It's cathartic but really doesn't need to be shared with the world.  Word vomit usually falls into the categories of bad poetry, self-absorbed whining, or depressive rambling. This might be all of those, but I read it the other day again and thought about how far we have come this school year.  Allie will be graduating K-5 here in a few months and while I've struggled at times and so has she we have persevered and she is a reading, writing, adding little genius these days. So, here you go. It may be a little self-indulgent.  It may be a little oh woe is me. It is honestly how I feel most days of my life.

Hope you've all been well my lovelies.  I'm sorry I've been absent but honestly between the day job and homework I'm braindead by 9:00 most nights.  Trying to do better about working on my writing at lunch. God bless Beans and Cream Coffee House in Columbus for free wifi and excellent coffee.  

Cute Allie Picture Because I Can

Dear Momma,

Ever have one of those days where you feel like a hot mess, a “bad mom?”  You wonder how those other perfect mothers in the carpool lane do it. Their hair and makeup are perfect, they’re dropping their kids off before heading to the gym in their perfect winged eyeliner and yoga pants and you know none of those kids begged their mom into giving them a lunchable.  I on the other hand found myself in the carpool line wiping peanut butter off a little face from the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she had for breakfast. My hair is still wet. I have on no makeup, and I sure hope that my shirt isn’t too wrinkled.

At least I had time enough to make myself a cup of coffee,  That’s more important than perfect winged eyeliner, right? It’s homecoming week at school and I watch my child walk into school wearing an apron as a costume - she was a chef for Career Day.  I see the other kids walk up in their clearly well thought out costumes as doctors and nurses and fighter pilots and I hope that the teacher won’t judge me for remembering it was career day Monday at 9:00 pm Sunday night.  I drive to work and wonder to myself how “those” moms do it. I even posted on facebook the following post:

And you know what?  I got a lot of moms that let me know they didn’t have it together either.  Moms from all walks of life, teachers, office workers, a couple of retired moms, and even one single dad all chimed in with the same refrain.  No one has it all together. My favorite is from a dear sweet lady in Louisiana who at 74 said that she still doesn’t have her crap together.

I felt better, and it helped to know that others were struggling too as later on that afternoon….
1.  Watched my low tire pressure light come on in the dash on the way home
2.  My dog got hit by a car (he’s OKAY, thank goodness for vets who will see you after hours)
3. I ended up painting a galaxy tee shirt for “space day” at school the next day getting done around 11:00 pm.  

It takes a school project to get me to paint again

While I packed lunches sometime before midnight I thought about how being a Mom and an adult for that matter while challenging really shows you what’s important and where you’re doing things right.

Stupid spotted dog on top things he's faster than a speeding truck...spoiler....he's not

That evening as I sat in the living room floor crying over my 9 month old puppy and frantically trying to find a vet that would see us at 8:00 at night Allie walked up and said, “Everything gonna be okay Momma, you’ll see.”  She then proceeded to make me not one but two drawings to make me feel better. While I was a puddle on the floor crying over a stupid dog and feeling like the worst person/mother in the world, my baby was trying to make me feel better.  As I blearily made a sandwich after finishing Allie’s shirt it hit me that she learned that from me. She saw that I was hurting and in her compassionate, sweet five year old way she did the only thing she knew to do to make me feel better.  

The momma struggle is real.  Those babies are watching and learning all the time.  Never mind the wet hair and processed food momma, love those babies and do the best you can.  That’s all that really matters.

Yours truly,

Lana “no clue” Pugh


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