Today I’m going to share a new word with you. I think I made it up? I Googled it with no results, so I’m going to go ahead and take credit for it. But first I’m going to tell you why.
Last week was exhausting.
ONE was sick and TWO continues to try to electrocute, burn, or drown himself every time I turn my head. I had a hormonally-driven meltdown two different times and they were both directed at Husband. I needed a solo trip to T.J. Maxx by myself to dig through the racks in peace — and I mean I needed it, in a BAD way — yet our current budget doesn’t allow it.
So I bought diapers.
I made more perfectly good food that no one ate.
By the time the weekend rolled around, I had had it. I was sick of children and whining and being cooped up and not having enough time to think. What I needed most, I decided, was a mothervention.
Mothervention (muh-thur-ven-shun): noun
1. The act or fact of a mother in need of intervening assistance.
2. Involvement of one mother in the affairs of another.
3. The need for normalcy.
Basically, I needed a night out. Badly.
Thank goodness. That’s all I have to say. Thank goodness two of my friends could meet me and rectify my situation. Somehow, sharing and discussing problems makes my own issues seem manageable. Because they are. They are. They are. I’m not alone. None of us are alone.
The three of us sat in the restaurant for nearly five hours and talked and ate and drank and relished in the fact that we didn’t have to stop what we were trying to say to tell so-and-so to sit in their seat or put the fork down or stop banging on the table. Childlessness. It can be bliss.
Five hours of mothervention later, I returned home feeling chipper and have pretty much remained so ever since. I waited too long for that night out. I always do.
Do as I say, not as I do. Go get your mothervention. Or intervention, whichever suits you best.
Modern Mommy Madness 