Distractions

This morning, three high-energy Little Badgers were racing around the house, amped from a good breakfast and energized by the bright sunshine streaming through the windows.  Little Brother asked me to help him with a dinosaur puzzle and we dove in, with Baby and Big Brother playing alongside.  A while later, I realized I was snapping at the kids.  There was an underlying irritation that was biting at the periphery of my contented Mommy-moment.  At first I was confused.  And then, Baby, climbing across my lap for the fifteenth time, really smacked my shin.  I had bruised it pretty badly the previous week, "climbing" out of the van, but, as any Good Mommy does, ignored it.  But, it was still there, distracting me from the Little Badgers' games.  And I got to thinking about distractions in general.  Most Mommies know the call of Facebook and the guilt that goes with it, but, Mommy Media aside, I wonder if I can truly blame myself for everything after all.

I find that some distractions are easy to ignore or push aside, guilt and a form of resentment naturally following.  These are usually physical: my stomach hurt, or I had a monster headache, or my shin hurt like a mo-fo, but the Little Badgers wanted to go outside for a walk, so I gamely went along.  See, only Bad Mommy puts herself before the kids.  I wonder if this is a form of indoctrination from my childbirth class.  Pushing through physical pain seen as evidence for my ability to put my kids first.  No pain, no gain.  Mommy is a bumper sticker.

Other distractions are harder to ignore.  These, of course, tend to be more "of the mind".  Worries about family or friends, worries about work or money, worries about being too fat, worries about whether or not I'm fantastic in bed, and, of course, worries about how badly I am messing up the Little Badgers.  These linger, overshadowing play time, lurking during dinner, creeping into story time.  These are almost impossible to truly push aside and they create their own form of pain that makes Mommy more of a mud puddle than a bumper sticker.

Some days I feel like my entire goal is to be "in the moment".  To enjoy every second and to soak up every Little Badger laugh, every silly joke, every push of the bicycle pedals, every sip of milk.  I had a startling moment when I was very pregnant with Big Brother Badger, that this was the closest I'd ever be to him.  From the moment of his birth, he would be growing away from me.  Mommies are told by sisters and mothers and friends to appreciate everything, that it will be gone before we know it.  And here I am, letting distractions sneak in and threaten those moments.  And here I am, blaming myself for the distractions in the first place.  My fault, my failure, my weakness.

But is it that simple?  Each of these distractions, both mental and physical, can be interpreted as some need of mine.  A need for some rest, or some ice, or some time to focus and relax, or a need for conversation with Daddy River Badger, or my dear sisters.  When Mommy takes care of herself, everyone ends up happier, but this seems to be a situation of dragging the horse to water, but finding the animal refusing to drink.  The jerk standing in the way is most often myself.  Daddy River Badger pleads with me to go out.  Go out with your sister!  Go see a movie!  Go out to the store and grab some chocolate!  My best response lately has been to go out to the gym and hurt myself some more.

I will dive back in tomorrow.  I know I will ignore my bruised shin.  I might ignore a headache.  I will spend my day shoving those mental distractions away with both hands, in futility.  I will throw myself into my job as Mommy, because I love it, and because it is everything I ever wanted to do.  I will appreciate those stolen moments where I forgot to be distracted by anything.  And then I'll work on making it over to Target to pick up that chocolate.