The good, the bad and the scary. The honest truth.

So, Jill over at Scary Mommy is having a search for the scariest mommy. Not only is it a fantastic idea, but I am TOTALLY a scary mommy, at least in my own definition, which is what she is looking for! She is having a fantastic contest with fantastic prizes, but she is taking into consideration the opinion of our readers. So, check out the contest (and of course, go vouch for me that I am a scary mommy!!!!) HERE!
And now, MY personal opinion of what a scary mommy is, and why I am the epitome of one!

I must say, it was very ironic that as I read Scary Momma's post my mom was on the phone asking me if I had sanitized all of Chick-fil-a's play area before I allowed my children to play in there. She doesn't know me as well as she used to.I think maybe I should actually have my friend, Jen, write this. Or heck, even my hubby. But instead, I will tell you what I can now see through their eyes.
When we got married, we knew that we would be trying to get pregnant pretty quickly. But we were happy with the way things were, too. My friends at work called me "Danielle Steele" because my husband and I may as well have come out of the sappiest of all her sappy novels. And then, after 9 months of trying, we finally got pregnant. I refused to do anything to risk it. I ate well, slept as much as I felt I needed, took my vitamins religiously, quit smoking, limited caffeine etc etc etc. I read all the books, made all my mommy plans. But the second I heard the words c-section, I should have known-parenthood isn't what you plan for!
My son and I were inseperable. I was the crazy mom. You know the old saying about how with your first you don't let them have the pacifier that fell on the floor? Yeah, well I took that to the extreme. ALL surfaces had to be disinfected before he could touch them, he did not see the world outside of this house until he was at the minimum recommended age of three months old. We had set daily rituals, he ate all the necessary food groups, I would not let a teeny tiny speck of peanuts, milk or anything else cross those lips. He did not have ANY baby food until six months, and then NOTHING else until about a year. No sweets until at least a year.And even then, he LOVED suckers, but the first time one fell off it terrified me. I went on a search for safety pops.(although, no amount of precautions prevented my sweetheart from being rushed to the ER after choking on a french fry)Every single page, section, spot of his baby book was filled out. He sneezed, I called the Dr. He wasn't allowed to go anywhere with anyone but me. Vaccines were on an alternating schedule, no matter who said what. No one baby-sat him except my parents, and even then I struggled. I scoffed at anyone who said things would change, just like I laughed when they said there would be a day when my husband and I would dare do things separately. My son and I were the best of best friends. He had SEVERE sleep apnea, so he slept in our bed so that I could make sure he was breathing throughout the night. We were rarely apart.
And then came two more pink lines. I thought I was ready. I always knew someone was missing, but suddenly my world turned upside down. I smiled when I shared the news, but deep in my deepest of hearts, I felt like this new little person inside of me was somehow an intruder on my and my son's relationship. I felt like the worst mother in the entire world. The whole second pregnancy was slightly tarnished, as I worried about where this little stranger would fit in. As we ran our errands together, I fretted that the baby would push my sweet baby boy out of the cart. As we laid in bed, I worried where each of them would lay as he snuggled against me. As we read together, I wondered where the new one would sit, because my son was GOING to stay in my lap. And then when he had to be seen for his pre-surgery appointments, the Dr. made the comment about little man having to sit in daddy's lap because mommy's was full. My heart broke.
Again, I made my plans for the birth, thinking it would be set since it was a repeat c-section. I was wrong. My sweet little miracle baby knew something I didn't. She knew she had a true knot in her cord and may not survive until the next morning. So she came early. I didn't leave my son out of anything. In his almost three years, the only night we spent apart was the night the little lady came to join us. The next two nights he slept in the hospital with us. And he hated his new sister. And he wanted nothing to do with me. It nearly killed me, and it took away some of the precious bonding that she and I so desperately needed. I wasn't the mom I should have been to either of them, until I woke up, got some happy pills, and changed my thinking a bit.
And now? I am NOTHING like the mother I was with my son. While I still hold on to our rituals, I don't feel like the worst mother on the face of the earth if my kids miss one night of their nightly bath. My friend just looks at me as I shovel teeny tiny bits of anything into my daughter's mouth. My daughter (GASP) sits at the table in the restaurant, even if I haven't disinfected it. We were at the mall when my daughter was a month old.Her baby book is....almost caught up. She sneezes, I wipe her nose on my sleeve. A Dr. worthy call is a high fever. As I write this, I am watching my just-barely-got-her-first-tooth eleven month old gum on a vanilla wafer. And earlier today she sucked on a dum-dum until it was gone.
And even more, I may miss a shower now and then. I am asking for those comfy sweatpants and matching top to wear for our never-ending errands. My house is no longer clean with organized toys. It is an organized mess. My life is an organized mess. With two little cherries sitting on top squirting the whole darn thing with whipped cream. That I may or may not clean up tomorrow.
I make my mistakes. I yell when I know I shouldn't. I turn on the cartoons so that I can blog for another half hour before I have to play stack the blocks AGAIN. But I also look at my son an tell him I shouldn't have yelled. I also TRY to learn from my mistakes.
The funny thing is, I don't know when I was scarier, then or now. Sometimes I wish I could be the mom I used to be with both of them now, but I would be lost. The Vicki part of this mom equation would be non-existent. And honestly, she would probably be in a straight jacket from the non-stop worrying. So, that is what I believe a scary mom to be. Someone that can get through all of this and not only admit it but be proud of making it through. The least scary mom is the one that doesn't have children yet. Because she hasn't had the chance to make the mistakes or learn the lessons, her perfect plans are still perfect.
So let's look at this little progression through pictures, shall we?!

Ah, yes, "Danielle Steele" in all her glory. That hair is beautifully highlighted, nails perfectly done, waist teeny tiny, skin nicely tanned. No wrinkles, no stress lines.

Me and my hubby, when my son was six months old. Lost the weight, still had time to do my hair (as long as it was short) Nails and hair coloring were gone, clothes had some stains, but I made sure I looked as put together as I neatly planned my little family's life

And most recently with Clueless Mama at a blogger event. Big shirt (actually a maternity sweater, but I still like it) covering still big belly, hair in it's permanent "up" state, wrinkles hidden by the lights. Yep.If you were to look closer, you would even see cookies on those jeans, formula on the shoulder, and a pacifier I forgot I shoved in my back pocket. The gray is being covered by at-home hair color, the nails are bitten to the core, tanning is a joke, and those legs, well, this is the longest they have ever been not shaven.

So, that is my story, I hope you enjoyed (heck, I hope you are still reading!). And please, do me a favor and go let Scary Mommy know that you agree, I sure am a scary mommy. Because one thing hasn't changed, my obsession of pictures and video's. I NEED that little video camera!

(Oh, and BTW, my daughter and I managed to find that bonding we needed. And the THREE of us are now the best of best friends).