When I signed up for this Mommy gig, I thought I had heard of all the pitfalls. Your life as you know it is over. True that.
Well, no one told me about Mommy Craziness. I’m not talking about postpartum depression which is a medical diagnosis and can hopefully be alleviated with therapy and/or medication.
I don’t think there’s a cure for Mommy Craziness.
It all started when Soso was a baby and I was looking at her itty bitty toes and fingers. I was suddenly overcome with a crazy desire to eat them. If I could have eaten them without turning into a cannibal, without hurting Soso, without actually making her lose her appendages, I would have. Sick, isn’t it?
This sickness continued when her feet started forming that Flintstone look that all toddlers get. Oh, yum!
Sometimes, even now, I’ll be taken over by a crazy desire and I’ll crab her legs and start making gnawing noises. “Ew, Mommy stop. What, you like to eat blood? Because that’s what you would be eating if you really eat me.”
Unfortunately, the craziness didn’t stop there.
As Soso started growing out of her cute little clothes and learning how to walk, then run, I would demand in all seriousness, “Stop growing!” She would look at me like I was indeed crazy and say, “Mommy, I have to grow. It just happens.” Now, she doesn’t bother to respond. She just looks at me with, pity I guess, and sighs.
This past year, the craziness has reached a whole new level.
When D and I started a college fund for Soso, he would mention how she could go to the community college down the road. Even though I knew he was joking, I would get mad.
In order for you to understand, let me pause and give you some background. I’m Korean raised by traditional Korean immigrants who came here for the sole purpose of giving me and my brother the best college education possible. Which meant that I was going to Harvard. May be MIT. That was it. Well, they probably would have taken any top 10 schools.
Of course my parents and I learned to have a broader idea of “best college” over the years. After all, I winded up going to a school ranked somewhere in the 30s. I also learned that college ranking isn’t everything, blah, blah, blah, but I am still the product of my parent’s
brainwashing prejudices ideals. There is a part of me that still think that going to the best school is important.
When D made jokes about community college, it was my old self getting incensed at the very idea. Of course she was going to the best school she can possibly can get into no matter the cost or the distance. Of course! It was how I was raised.
Then about three years ago, I started rethinking this thought. Well, not California even if she gets into Stanford. Then it was, no school where we have to fly. Then it was, no more than 5 hours drive. Then three hours. Then it was Rutgers, only.
Today, I tell you, I will be proud of my Soso and happy when she attends the local community college down the road. In all seriousness.
How the mighty has fallen, right? I’ve gone from, if my kid gets into Harvard she will go to I don’t care if my kid gets into Harvard, she’s not leaving home!
I would never be able to sleep. Or breath for that matter. I would just keel over and die from anxiety. I would want her to text me or whatever the latest form of communication is every single minute which would be a deterrent to studying so she might as well stay at home where she won’t have to spend every minute reassuring me and can get some real studying done. And actually graduate from school even it is only a two-year program.
So, question of the day is, am I really crazy if I know that I’m being crazy?