With yesterday being mother’s day and Thursday being Noah’s 11th birthday, I’ve coined this week the Mommy Sandwich. It’s a stretch to use the word “mommy” when it comes to my role with Noah, as I am really closer to a pseudo mom, cooler than just dad’s girlfriend but not despised enough to be considered a step-mom. Being pseudo mom is a sweet spot. It’s kind of like being Disneyland dad, without the monetary obligations. I spend plenty of time enjoying Nerf gun wars, hikes and tickle sessions, but am exempt from the difficult parts of child rearing.
On Mother’s Day I found myself reflecting on what a bad ass my own mother is. Not only did she raise her own biological children, she also had a hand in raising several of my cousins and most of my friends. On top of all this, she worked full-time outside of the home and now spends her hard earned retirement years with a toddler.
Let’s be real, I have zero chances at keeping up with my mom and her crazy Mother Teresa lifestyle. So instead of setting myself for failure, I think I’ll stay right where I’m at, enjoy every Nerf gun fight and fall back on my mothers most practical example: don’t worry about not being able to cook well; at the end of the day, everything can become a casserole.