One of Those Days....

I suppose today is one of those "typical" mom days. The kids are ornery, the house is a mess, and I have a headache the size of Vancouver. Take into account the empty bottle of Advil, the complete lack of will to clean - even AFTER 3 cups of coffee, and the laws in place against beating your children, and today seems rather hopeless. The outcome couldn't be more predictable OR disheartening. Fighting to salvage what little sanity I have left, I am implementing nap-time for the older two, and movie-time for the youngest. So far, only one is crying, and even that seems manageable through the relaxing music of Baby Einstein and the click of my keyboard.

I've been looking forward to this fall for quite some time. Our oldest will be starting preschool and soccer. Our second will be starting dance classes. And our baby will still be our baby. It's a new adventure for our family. A big step. Unfortunately, it has started as a nauseating blur. I feel like a soccer mom on speed. The dreams of cruising to the field in our minivan (yes, some people actually dream of minivans. It's not THAT sad.), cheering during games, family dinners afterward, and preschool art projects decorating the fridge suddenly seem like delusions. Delusions of a first-time mom, I suppose - of a naive, optimistic, stubborn mom who thought perfection was ALWAYS possible, if not probable. I think that's called "obsessive compulsive." At least that's what my self-diagnosis reads. I'm a heck of a psychiatrist, especially if you're really messed up. I can spot wackos a mile away, I tell ya. It's impressive. Unfortunately, it doesn't pay much. Ok, so it pays nothing, but it does save us the money of a REAL psychiatrist who would probably just confirm my findings. At least a good one would.

Beyond the daily self-imposed pressures and expectations of full-time motherhood, I decided to step out on another limb and join a Fantasy Football League. I'm thinking I can learn some things about myself through this experience. I know little about the teams, less about the players, and next-to-nothing about how to PLAY FFL (heh), but I DO know a little about football. I know that my Lions suck. I know that every year we, Lion's fans, speak in excited tones of the "potential" (an evil word), "future", and *gasp* "playoffs" that we're sure to realize this year. Inevitably, it's the disappointment that we seem to have to relearn year after year only to end up in the same depressing state we were at the same time every year past. Every year since Barry left, that is. Barry gave us something to cheer for. Barry gave us something to believe in. Barry gave us a purpose, and then he taketh away. We should be angry and hurt. Instead we're deliriously hopeful. This mom can relate to that, and to every fan who hoped for the best, got the worst, and turned around to hope for the best again.

I take comfort in the company I share, even though I've never spoken to another Lion fan, spare my family and friends. I take comfort in the collective gasps and sighs as hope flickers and fades with the opening and closing of each season. Yesterday kicked my ass, today showed no mercy, but tomorrow is still new. I take comfort in that tomorrow, as a mom, a wife, and a Lion fan.