By: Angela Gillaspie Copyright © July 2002

I'm having a Manic Mom Pity Party, want to come?

Bring your cup of coffee, box of tissues and share your stories of being unable to take a shower without someone asking you to make a grilled cheese or to tell you that so-and-so put the cat in the refrigerator. Locking the bathroom door is useless since the kids discovered how to pick it a year ago.

Can you imagine going to the dentist without having your children argue and spray the hygienist with the little mouth squirter thingie? When we're sick or just need a check up, wouldn't it be great to go ALONE to the doctor's office? I'll laugh with you when someone mentions getting a babysitter. I'd have to get another mortgage on my house to afford for someone to watch over my four kids just so that I could have some quality time with my gynecologist.

You and I can appreciate the irony of "sleeping when the baby sleeps" because we know too well that as soon as we dozed off, the baby would cry.

I'll give you a sympathetic smile when you tell me that you had to give up using the telephone or Internet because of the constant interruptions during these activities to discuss life's deepest meanings. Speaking of life's deep meanings, isn't it strange the how YOU were the one that lost your innocence when you explained where babies came from?

We may laugh out loud when we discover that we've wondered about our sanity when World War III erupted over something as simple as blowing a nose, picking up dirty socks, or choosing a breakfast cereal. Let me tell you about how my kids constantly fight over the remote and you can tell me about how your kids got into a wrestling match over the coveted Scooby Doo cup.

Somber, I will admit that I feel like a lousy mom when my kids don't obey; I fear that it's a reflection of my poor parenting skills. Your eyes leak as you agree and mention that you feel that way when your kids hurt each other - you hate that you must protect one child from another and feel guilty for wondering if your kids will grow up to be Charles Manson, or worse, Bill Clinton.

That sets off a round of dewy-eyed laughter and we both recount how many times we said we were NOT going out in public EVER again with our children because of how rambunctious they acted. I giggle and tell you of the time that I wept openly in a crowded restaurant over spilled milk.

At the heart of my pity party is the realization that I can't do it all. You nod, oh yes, you understand! You point out that it could be much worse and you warn me about teenagers and the bad choices they may make like drugs, sex, and, God forbid, listening to Britney Spears.

With each new age, there is a whole new set of worries. One thing remains constant - the love for my children. When I pray for strength, I realize that God knows exactly how I feel. He provides so much, yet many of His children forget or just DON'T stop and thank Him. This thought puts my pity party in perspective. I know deep down that my kids appreciate me - just like God knows that I appreciate Him.

I'm feeling better now, how about you? It's OK not to be Super Mom. We can't do it all, but what we do accomplish is important and appreciated. Little things like offering cookies fresh from the oven to warm your child's tummy (and heart) after a chilly ride home on the bus. In the rain, wind, cold, and 90-degree heat, we coached their soccer teams and chaperoned field trips.

We were there when the first tooth erupted and we tiptoed in the darkness five years later to exchange that same tooth for a dollar. We became emotional during their school musicals. We practically exploded with relief when the doctor said they had nothing serious.

Keep on being a fantastic and caring parent and know that you are appreciated even though no one says it out loud. We're doing an awesome job. Aren't we totally blessed to have the label "Mom" or "Dad" put on us?

Thanks for sharing a Manic Mom Pity Party with me.

Stay tuned for more of Southern Angel's pity parties!