Confessions of a Former Sanctimommy

Yes, I admit it. I used to be a *gasp* sanctimommy. What’s even worse, I was a sanctimommy without children.

Seriously. I was (am?) an elementary school teacher for eight years and I was the queen of “my-child-will-neverland”. MY child will never act like that in public, I just won’t have it, MY child will never go to school dressed like that, etc. You can pretty much fill in the rest, maybe you’ve even said it yourself. I can remember cataloging what the parents were doing wrong with each of my most challenging students. Hopefully, my thoughts were not evident to these parents. If they were, I greatly admire them for not decking me during parent teacher conferences. Maybe it was a form of protection – as long as I could place blame with the parents, I could ensure that I would never face the same problem with my child. I let this belief drive me to be the perfect mom. Because, if I was the perfect mom (unlike the parents of the children in my class), then I would have the perfect child. Okay – I never actually thought I would be perfect, but I set my standards impossibly high.

Then I had little J. And I learned. Children have a mind of their own and you can’t make them do anything. It started with his refusal to nap (it is a myth that all newborns sleep most of the day) and has just gone downhill from there. Not that I think I am a horrible mommy: I feed him, he usually has the right shoes on the right feet, and I have never hit him. But I am far from the mommy I had pictured in my head. The no TV mommy. The only eat organic good for you food mommy. The don’t have a meltdown in the middle of Target mommy. I am now the watch Playhouse Disney so I can take a shower mommy. The it’s okay to have hotdogs for lunch again as long as you are eating something mommy. The I will bribe you with the Dollar Spot to get you to stop screaming mommy. And most days I think I’m doing okay.

I don’t know if I will ever go back to teaching full time again, but if I do, I know that I will be more patient, more understanding and better able to support the parents of my students. Having a child will make me a better teacher, even before that child is school-aged. I guess it was one big lesson the teacher could only learn through hands-on experience, but it is a most valuable lesson at that.

The new kid

Okay people, I am coming out….
“My name is Wisconsin Mommy, and I am a lurker.”
“ Hello Wisconsin Mommy.”
I have been lurking around the blogosphere for over a year now. Yet I am just now starting my own blog. Why so long, you ask? One simple four letter word….fear. Starting a blog felt a lot like lunchtime at a new high school. You enter the cafeteria and spot the cool kids all sitting at one table across the room. They are laughing, having fun, looking like they own the joint. You nervously take your tray of inedible slop and weigh your options. You could walk over to the table and try to join the group but…..it’s the but that always stops you….
But what if you are rejected right off the bat? You’ll be left standing there with your tray in hand, the whole cafeteria witness to your dismissal.
But what if you are allowed to sit down but make a fool out of yourself by saying the wrong thing?
But what if you are not clever enough, witty enough?
But what if you are not privy to the unwritten rules of the group and make a heinous faux pas?
All of these scenarios have flooded my head every time I considered starting a blog. You all have such insightful things to say. I admire your wit and candor. I’ve related to you and what you’ve shared – I want to join. I’ve decided it’s time to face the fear. I’m not in high school anymore. And, you know what? Those cool kids were never as perfect as I made them out to be in my head.
So, as I step timidly into the cafeteria that is the blogosphere, I may approach your table, tray in hand. I may violate an unwritten blogger rule or two. Be gentle with me please, I’m new at this school.