door #2

Louis CK has a great bit about getting older.



I laughed the first time I saw it. I nodded soberly the second time. The difference? The second time I saw this standup, I had just become a mom of two. 

I had just taken a hard look at myself and said, "Oh my God. I'm not sure I can do this. Can I do this?!"

Reality check, Louis CK style.

Having a kid (or in this case, a second kid) is like having a shitty ankle. There's no going back. There's no "treatment" to return to a previous state. That's just how it is now. You have to stretch your shitty ankle every day. That's a thing you do now, and after you do it every day for the rest of your life, you'll still have a shitty ankle.

I have 2 kids now. I'll never be not-a-mother-of-two-kids ever again. I have to scoop myself an extra 15-45 minutes every time I want to leave the house. There is no "running into the store real quick for one clove of garlic." We're just not having garlic on our garlic bread tonight. We're having butter toast. Wait, we're out of butter. We're having hot, dry bread with our dinner and that's going to be just dandy. 

Can I do this?

This question is a luxury. It's also spectacularly beside the point.

Does it matter if you think you can do this? This is your life now. This is how you fucking ROLL now, with a car seat on one arm and a frisky Chicken tugging on the other.

Can I do this? 

Um, that kind of philosophical query would have been appropriate 9.5 months ago, mama. But ya did it, and now you're fucking doing it. 

There. Is. No. Door. Number. Two.

Put it another, slightly cheerier way:

Yes. 
You can do this. 
In fact, you already are. 
Did you wake up at 5 this morning, feed your baby, read a story to your toddler, and take a shit load of deep, deep breaths when it was time to get in/out of the car? 
The sun hasn't exploded, right?
Everything that was alive in your house yesterday is still alive today, right? 
OK, great. 
You're doing it. 

Stop asking if you "can" do it, because, obviously, you can. I think what you really mean when you ask that question is "can I do this PERFECTLY?"

That's the meanest, most mean-girl mean question you could ask yourself. "Can I be perfect?" Seriously? No. Nope. Nyet. Not at all, not even for a minute, never. Nobody else in the world would ever ask that of you. Get okay with your imperfections. They are what make you the mom you are - quirky and crazy, surprising and delightful and real. They are why your children love you, specifically YOU, with their whole hearts.

Instead of "can I do this?" how about we go with something a little more like:  

God as my witness, this shit is getting done. Let's figure out how.

0 comments:

Post a Comment