PBN Blog Blast: The Truth About Motherhood - and it is the one you probably won't want to hear, either.

The Parent Bloggers Network is collaborating with Discovery Health to introduce their new docu-drama "Deliver Me" which follows three women - best friends, working mothers and physicians - as they balance delivering babies together in their OB/GYN practice with their lives outside the delivery room.

Perhaps you're like me - having given birth to what will probably be her last baby, 6 years ago - and asking yourself, what's this have to do with me?

Well, they're looking for bloggers to tell them the truth about motherhood and I happen to have a one that just might hurt, a little.

Don't be surprised if your kids grow up NOT speaking to you...or, each other!

I haven't spoken to my brother in a while.  We seem to be missing each other, the last few Sundays, at my parents' house.  My sister-in-law was sick on Good Friday and they couldn't make it to Easter dinner, either.  Their anniversary gift is still sitting on a chair in the kitchen and I really don't know when I'll see them, next.

I haven't spoken to my brother in a while and - although my children and I miss him, terribly - I'm not sure that I really want to.

Call him, I mean.

A lot has changed since my brother got married 4 years ago and - although, I know that our love for each other is the same - my brother and I both lead very busy lives which, unfortunately, means that we don't get to see each other, as often.

But, when we do, it's like when we were kids...all...over...again.

[same dorky grin]

"Hey...whuuuuzzzzup!"

I stand on my tip-toes, kiss him, tell him what's been bothering me and then remind him to call our folks, sometime soon.

[sounding like Fozzy Bear]

"Ahhhh...no problem."

You see, it's been like this...well...forever.

Even as babies, my parents said I was always the restless one - jumping the hell out of my crib while my brother sat in one corner, contently staring at his socks - and it's sometimes hard to believe that my brother and I are twins.

He's like my mother - calm, quiet and forgiving - where as I am my father's daughter and we are, well, forever battling with unseen demons and ready to pounce on whatever (or, whoever) is gnawing on our last nerve at the moment, it seems.

"Did your brother call?"

UGH, I swear, the man wasn't even through the front door.

"Because, he didn't call your mother."

As I grow older (shuddup!) I'm beginning to care less and less about how other people are feeling.  I can't help it.  It sounds childish, I know.  Then again, I'm someone's mom.  It would hurt me too, sort of.  Still.  The dynamics of my immediate family hasn't changed much.

My mother gets upset.

My father gets pissed.

He tells me.

I tell my brother.

[sounding like Fozzy Bear]

"Ahhhh...no problem."

Except, this time, I'm not going for it.

"Sorry, Pop, but I can't make him do anything that he doesn't want to."

He's not my kid.

"Well, I think it's time that he and I have a nice...long...talk."

Good.

"Since, he's obviously forgotten he has a sister."

Crap.

"I'm sure he hasn't forgotten."

Sort of.

"Let's eat!"

Morale of this story:  The hardest thing about being a mother, is having to be a sister and a daughter, too!

Don't even get me started on making bets with your husband and the only thing you can offer as collateral, at the moment, is performing a sexual favor, or two!

If anyone needs me, I'll be upstairs changing the sheets and looking for any spare change that may be hiding under the bed.

© 2008 This Full House - All Rights Reserved.

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Comments

[Tammy]

I swear you're writing my family's recent conversation almost verbatum! It's sad but like you I've reached a point in my life that I just can't be worrying about my brothers anymore...I have my own kids to worry about now. As much as I want to be a support to my mother I just don't want to hear about it anymore.

[Backpacking Dad]

I am just like your brother. I barely talk to my sister (although we're "friends" on Facebook now, and that makes it harder to not talk), not because we don't like each other; when we're together it's just like being kids again. The same jokes still work; the same teasing still sets us off.

But she is also the one who lives within a mile of my mother (and I live on the other side of the continent), so if I don't call my mother regularly I hear about it from my sister, the Guardian of My Mother's Feelings.

I could be better. But I have too much blogging to do.

[Amber]

Sigh. Last baby six years ago (as the woman ponders her final pregnancy ahead of her). Double sigh.

I'll go check it out!

[Busy Mom]

And people "feel sorry" for me being an only child...

[sarah]

I recently came across your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I don't know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog. I will keep visiting this blog very often.
Sarah
http://www.thetreadmillguide.com