I Want to Be a "Rock Star" Mom

I always find comfort when I hear movie stars, professional athletes, physicians and others in the public eye (who have demanding jobs and schedules) say that their most important job is that of being a parent. Julia Roberts (she's my age : 0 ) went on Oprah recently to tout the most important role of her career, motherhood. I guess it makes me think - wow, a person living a privileged life - wants exactly what I do - to be the best mom or dad. If they accomplish that all these other accolades fade away. I realize that maybe I'm not missing out on anything after all.

A few months ago, I dropped my daughter off at school on a Monday morning. She skipped off to the front door wearing a zippy white, brown and plaid skirt, her Mary Janes and an Old Navy t-shirt that said "My Mom is Rock Star". I felt like a rock star that day... the night before I had prepared her snacks, filled out permissions slips and water bottles, ironed her clothes and laid out her lunch money, library books & ballet bag for the entire week. We arrived at school on time and I felt good about myself. We had our act together and were both prepared for another week in the world.

Four hours later, I was eating lunch at my desk and got a phone call from the school nurse. My daughter had thrown up in the school cafeteria! Did she have any other symptoms? Could it be strep? Has anyone else in her class been sick or gone home early? My mind raced to calling the pediatrician's office on my speed dial, getting someone to cover me at work for the rest of the day and thinking of what would I do about the next day - she couldn't be at school in a 24 hour period after getting sick.

I drove to her school quite dejected thinking of the shirt she was wearing and how what a joke it was - a mockery now because I was feeling quite unlike a "rock star" super mom at the moment. When I arrived she confessed that she had eaten ranch dressing on a chocolate chip cookie. Maybe it's a stomach bug and the combination she had eaten was too much to take I thought, but I still worried about the rest of our week and how it would unfold. I couldn't bear to look at the sassy shirt any longer.

We went home and changed out of school and work clothes and she was imprisoned on the couch for the rest of what would be a low-key afternoon. I had to talk myself out of beating myself up from worrying about my boss and job, and slowly began to realize that it's okay to come out of overdrive and just simply be mom for the afternoon.

As a parent, I worry everyday over parenting her - that I don't get to spend enough time with her - that I don't read to her every night, that she is living in a single parent home, that she eats a good breakfast and enough fruit and vegetables each day, what would happen to her if I died early, not having $$ to have decent life insurance to leave behind if something did happen to me, making sure she goes to college, not having a father figure in her daily life, that she lives a good, moral life with me as a role model, that I don't have enough $$ in my bank account for an emergency fund, that if she could she would be a night owl, that if I accept a movie invite from a friend that I feel guilty spending time away from her. Sometimes all that alone is so overwhelming to me.

So to hold it together I try to keep everything moving forward in one direction at a safe, speed. Try to keep us on a routine so our family life runs smooth and we don't notice the person missing from the picture. We had to paint a new photo of what our family looks like and we are both finally getting used to it.

Who doesn't want to be a "rock star" mom that has fun with their child and makes super parenting decisions. I do. I want to be on top of everything in her life, give her piano and violin lessons, get her a math tutor, be involved in her community and set a good example at all times and want the correct words to come out of my mouth in teaching moments. But in a total "rock star" mom fantasy world, I would love to fly her to Chicago and treat her to lunch at the American Girl Place and spend the afternoon looking at the dinosaurs at the The Field Museum. Or take her to Serendipity's in NYC so she can have a Frrrozen Hot Chocolate and jump on the piano at FAO Schwarz. Or watch her swim with a dolphin on a Disney cruise.

Like any parent, I naturally want to give my daughter the world. But naturally all she needs is a mom who is loving, patient, and kind (especially after hearing chocolate chip cookies dipped in ranch type confessions). It's intrinsic that we know this, but good to remind ourselves that your child doesn't care if you are a rock star or a person of privilege to be able to provide the basics - love, boundaries and a happy home.