Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Pretty Pink Bows

The beautiful preschool blondes are lined up in a row. All four of them are wearing bows in their hair today -- including mine. I know no one but me notices that my blonde has a couple spots on her shirt, and that under that pretty bow is a small nest of fuzzy hair that never seems to get combed out all the way. Maybe the other moms look at their own cute little blonde and think the same thing... though I doubt it.

On this day it is my job to help out at the preschool, so i am sweeping the floors, tidying things... helping the kids decorate their Valentines cupcakes...

Four hours prior i was writing about murder and mayhem and shouting "fuck!" a thousand times when my work computer locks up... or whatever the current headache happens to be.

Headaches, however, are an indulgence i don't have time to pay heed to. Where the other mothers wake with their happy children in homes that they own, kiss their working husbands goodbye and cruise lazily to the school, I spend my overnights working -- scribing useless scripts for the masses. Then i rush to get the kid to school. Then i do anything i can to stay up for the rest of the day -- a perpetual mishmash of meltdowns and sloppy mothering.

But i look at the four pretty blondes and find that on the outside -- there is no difference between her and the others. She plays happily with the other kids, crows from the top of the slide like the rest... and knows next to nothing of the cross i bear to make sure her pretty hair looks pretty. I have to work so much harder than the West Hills perfect families that populate the school, but i do it and i do it and i do. Question is, will she know how hard i work, and should i tell her?


Emily said...

Nikki, you're one of the most of the most beautiful people I know... One day these preschool days will look like a blink of an eye. Keep doing what you're doing and no matter what it may seem life isn't always greener on the other side of the white picket fence... em

annie kelleher said...

i was the single mother of four. yes, by all means tell her how hard it is, and more than that, show her. in fiction, we give our characters challenges to test their mettle. life does the same to us. for years, my mantra was... that which does not kill me makes me strong. raising four alone was tough but it didn't kill me. and it made me, and them... very very strong. check out my blog entry - one for you, meggie moo - to get a glimpse of what's possible at the end of what looks like a long dark tunnel.