A couple of days ago I experienced the biggest mom fail I ever had, and I decided to share it with you. Why? Because us moms need to learn to laugh about ourselves. This mom fail is a reminder that I am real. Moms are real. We didn’t come from fairytales or are perfect fiction characters, despite of having super powers that only us can understand. Moms swear. Moms get angry. Moms have tantrums. Moms cry behind closed doors. Moms steal candy from our kids. Moms loose composure from time to time. Moms fake it every other night, and I am not referring to sex specifically. (Yes husbands, we also fake poop to spend more time than the necessary in the toilet just to watch something on our phones). We are neither saints or angels or robots. Yes, we love and nurture others and we have a tremendous amount of responsibilities but this doesn’t mean we have to be perfect creatures. However, somehow we put motherhood expectations way too high. And we compete with each other, as if motherhood would be a race. That is why every now and then, when we see these mom fail pictures or tales, we feel good. Among the other million of fake social media perfect portrayals of motherhood, we found one story that reminds us who we really are and that we are not alone. Motherhood is hard, period. So enough of being scared and let’s show each other how motherhood really feels like. Moms are real, and moms get drunk. Yes we do. And this is where my story is heading and please bear with me, you will laugh at the end TRUST ME, but you got to hear the story first.
It is a struggle to find the time, the babysitter, and the stamina to go out on a date with my husband. It’s like one of those rare cosmic events, when the stars have to align perfectly in order to finally happen. But when they do happen, they are beautiful. The sound of a loud bar where you don’t have to feed no one else but yourself, the taste of the drinks you wanted to have since a very long time, the feeling of letting yourself loose, sometimes too loose…
It was a normal Saturday night. Mary, our babysitter, came just in time. I kissed my kids goodnight and I jumped in the car as fast as I could like a teenager going to a party with friends for the first time. We went to a place we usually don’t go because of the kids. We sat on the bar and order some drinks. I usually drink wine but that night, I wanted a bolder drink. I went for margaritas instead. After a couple of drinks we realized it was still early, so why not bar hopping for a change? I don’t know why I decided to switch to my old known friend the wine. I know, I know, the mix for God’s sake! But I did it! And we had a lot of fun.
Next morning, my 3 year old woke me up and I was of course as hung over as I could get. Then I started remembering the night, noticing I had forgotten big parts of it. That never happens or at least, it hasn’t happened in a looooong time. I barely remember getting into a political argument with a complete stranger, and my husband telling me it was enough for the night and that we should leave. I didn’t recall entering the house, or paying Mary! When my husband woke up I asked him. He told me that yes, I was drunk, but that he didn’t think it was that bad because I went to the room, took the check book, wrote a check, paid Mary and went to sleep. Nothing to be alarmed…
I saw Mary next Monday morning, since she is also my son’s teacher. But she didn’t mention anything weird. It was until Tuesday night that I received this message from her: “Hey! So I tried tonight to deposit your check from this weekend over the phone, but it would not accept it because it said it could not understand the writing on the check. I hate to ask this, but do you think you would maybe be able to write another one? Sorry!”
And then it hit me. The panic feeling. What the fuck did I write on that check? It was 24 agonizing hours until I found out. I told Mary to take the check next day to school and I will give her a new one. When I came she just took it out from her pocket and gave it to me and I gave her cash without seeing it. Later I sat in the car and I opened it. Yes, any of my kids, even my dog could have written a more coherent check. I felt embarrassed, probably the most embarrassed I have ever felt. But I laugh. A LOT. As a matter of fact I see the check and cant stop laughing. Without further ado, the following is the picture of the check I wrote. Yes, me. Not any of my kids, it was me. I apologized to Mary again, and she is now known as the sweetest babysitter ever, she didn’t make a big deal out of this, on the contrary, she said she was happy I had a good time and that I deserved it! Now, I would like you to play a game with me. Let’s figure out together, what the fuck did I write? And please, follow a piece of advice moms, STICK TO WINE, or one kind of drink at least. And let your husband pay the babysitter!
