Sunday, May 09, 2010

Being A Mom Is Not All FTD And Brunches, You Know: The Dept. Takes A Walk on The Romero/Hitchcock Side Of Motherhood (Again)

*this is previously posted material from long, long ago when my blog was just a newborn; it contains minor edits*
If the producers and directors of horror films were smart, they'd have their test audiences comprised solely of moms. Because we know scary. We confront it every day; moreover, we stare it down and kick its ass. It is part of our on-the-job training, and even playing with dollies does little to ready us for when it rears its ugly head.

Consider the labor and delivery room: Not only do we propel, through sheer brute force, a human being averaging 8 pounds and 20 inches out of our bodies, but while we are attempting to do so, someone is sticking his/her fingers inside us, strapping machinery to us, and, in my case, leading in a pack of student nurses to interview us and observe us, taking notes during the entire event and then admonishing us when we are a teensy weensy bit less than polite.

Then, at various times throughout Momhood, we are vomited on, snotted on, peed on, diarrhea-ed on, and forced to deal with "boo-boos," some of which require a trip to the Emergency Room--also known as "The Department of Motor Vehicles Medical Center"--where we see people who look like extras from Central Casting for The Night of the Living Dead. After we get home, we get to clean all these bodily fluids up, while retching upon our own.

And, because of our supernatural diagnostic powers, we are subjected to a barrage of horrific encounters almost continually if we have teenagers, a species well-known for its low grossness threshhold.

Teen: Mom, taste this.
Mom: Why?
Teen: Just taste it.
Mom: But I don't want any.
Teen: You don't have to eat it, just taste it.
Mom: Good God! Okay, fine! (tastes it) There. It's good. Why?
Teen: It smelled funny. I thought it might be rotten and I wasn't sure.

And it's not just our palates that are assailed. Our vision is assaulted as well:

Teen: (in bathroom, calling): Mom! (pauses imperceptibly) MOM!!!!!
Mom: (rushes in) What?! What's the matter?
Teen: Is there something on my back?
Mom: What? Is that all? You sounded like you were bleeding to death.
Teen: I can feel something gross on my back but I can't get it.
Mom: Let me see....Eeew! It's a huge zit. Just leave it alone.
Teen: Mom! I know it's back there. It's gross. You have to get it.
Mom: I don't want to touch it. Yuck.
Teen: Mom! Please. You have to. I don't want my new American Eagle shirt to even touch it.
Mom: I'll put a band-aid on it, then.
Teen: Mom, come on! You have to. Just squeeze it real quick.
Mom: (Sighs) Okay. Brace yourself. (Squeezes) Ugh!
Teen: Ouch! Oh my God! Mom! Geeze! What the Heck!!!!

And this is the same child who, upon entering and seeing that I am watching "Dr 90210", the plastic surgery show on the Style Network, says, "Oh my God, Mom, how can you watch all that blood and guts and crap?".

If Moms wrote the script for a horror movie, can you imagine what it would be? Mine, now that my kids are 22 and 25, would be one in which the boys never left home but got some low-life trashy Tea Party wenches from the Fundamentalist Right "in trouble" and tried to live here with their babies, played country music at top volume, spoke with bad grammar, and brought yappy dogs into my house. Seriously scary stuff, that.

I'll be back soon with Something New. In the meantime, Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms, Moms-to-Be, and Those With Moms.


  1. I'm smiling. And chuckling. I've got it...a possible screenplay: Huge, Gooey Zits from Hell. Whaddaya think? Happy Mom's Day, Nance!

  2. Happy Mother's Day. Your horror stories are totally horrible. Meaning, scary, but funny.

    The thing about motherhood is that...gosh, all of that barf and poop and stuff is real, but so are the hugs and smiles and it's kind of a wash. Actually, more than a wash. I'm not one to glamorize motherhood and make it into a holier-than-thou greeting card, but it is a wonderful thing in amongst the horror and terror of it all.

  3. Are you sure you're not living in my house?? These stories sound awfully familiar!

  4. My 17-yr.old begs me to help him organize and write papers. Then I put in earnest, thoughtful time. Then he screams at me in disagreement with every suggestion. How about finding the half-drunk glass of milk and a stash of open granola bars w/wrappers that have been under the bed for 3 wks.? And then there's the clean laundry that you folded getting wantonly thrown onto the floor full of dirty clothes so clean is indistinguishable from dirty and you have to start all over with all of it. And the bathroom which requires a hazmat suit.

  5. Totally on target, Nance. Moms put up with a lot. Nothing more to add. Thanks for the laughs and the recognition! Happy Mother's Day!


  6. Horrors indeed! And thank you for directed my lost crew toward my gift. They found it there. Without you, who knows where they might have ended up. Home Depot? Petsmart? GetGo? It could happen!

  7. J.--Anything can happen! (And usually does.) In any case, even a blind squirrel finds a nut sooner or later, and I know you saw proof of that in your very own driveway!

    Shirley--You're welcome. This post is timeless, no matter what the age of my sons may be.

    sputnik--my sons stopped asking me to help them with their papers because I "always found something wrong!" Sigh. Like most kids, they just want Validation Of Their Genius before they hit "Print."

    apathy lounge--I know, right? I hate to tell you that IT DOESN'T CHANGE MUCH WHEN THEY ARE IN THEIR TWENTIES.

    j.@jj--oh, i would never glamourize motherhood...EVER. i've had too much Reality Therapy for that. I like the fact that both of my sons can be Very Good Company. I like the fact that they have feelings and are not all wrapped up in Macho Stereotypes. They respect women and have a nice sense of Family. We laugh A LOT. But I also know that the idea that Motherhood is somehow Sacred And The Only Thing That Defines Me is, for me, bullshit. I'm way more than just Jared and Sam's mother. So, I agree with you: it's a wonderful thing, but it's not the MOST wonderful thing.

    Melissa B.--Hey, in your teaching career, how many times have kids slipped and called you "Mom"? LOL.

  8. LOL! That would be quite the horror show! Belated Happy Mother's Day! I hope you had a great day! : )


Oh, thank you for joining the fray!

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