Momster and the Hi-Yah Guy

Posted on | December 5, 2012 | 1 Comment

I tell my kid bedtime stories.

I mean, I read them to him, too, but my favorite times are when he says “Tell me a story, Mommy” and we launch into a magical world where he and I, just the two of us, are a crime fighting team of superheros… Momster and the Hi-yah Guy.  It’s silly, I guess, but he loves it.  We’ve fought monsters in the closet, dinosaurs under the bed, evil kings and knights and dragons in far away lands.  We wear masks and capes, hiding our real identities from the evil we face and we face it all… together.  Every story involves just the two of us, battling it out against something bigger… something maybe just a little scarier than what we saw the day before.  At the end of every “tale” he raises up his hand for a high five and announces “We’re a GREAT team. And we live happily ever after.”

The thing is, as a single parent, there’s no better feeling that having your child call you a “great team.” Because, dammit, you have to BE a great team to make it work.  To be “on” 24/7, between work and family, between house and career, between mom and lawyer? You have to have a great partner in crime.  You have to raise a little boy who thinks that putting the clothes in the washing machine is a way to shoot basketball goals. You have to raise a child who believes that it’s a special treat to eat a Lunchable with a side of green peas on the sofa for dinner… especially if it comes with cookies.   You have to make concessions to the way “things are done” or the way things WERE done or the way you wish you could do things, to make things actually work for you. I worry so much about that, about being a good team and still balancing the need to be more than just a partner in crime.  I have to be more than just the Momster to his Hi-Yah guy… I have to be the MOM.  I have to discipline, even when I’m tired.  I have to enforce bedtime even when I want to say “Sure, buddy, let’s just sit here on the sofa until you fall asleep.” I have to enforce the rules, not just the fun.  And it sucks having to be both good cop AND bad cop all the time.

I worry that I’ll split into two halves or maybe three parts, all of them sporting the grayish under eye bags and mussed up clothes of the single working mother… all of them tired, all of them wondering what the hell happened to the last 24 hours and what in the hell did she DO during them.  I feel torn between who I want to be for J and who I have to be for him, between what I want to do at the office and where I want to be… at home.  It’s a constant struggle. It’s a constant battle.  And there are only a few choice moments when everything comes together, the wind billows my hair and cape just so, and I’m able to strike a pose worthy of a superhero Momster before I topple off the ledge again.

But you know what?  When my kid looks at me with those big blue eyes and grins and says “We make a GREAT team, Mommy. Because we’re Momster and the Hi-Yah guy…” the only thing left to say is “Yes.”

Because as long as he feels that way?  We WILL live happily ever after.

Comments

One Response to “Momster and the Hi-Yah Guy”

  1. Erin K
    December 6th, 2012 @ 11:19 am

    Your writing always make me tear up. Thank you!

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    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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