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Mamafesto
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for Mothers Who Think

[ CONTESTANT No. 3 ]

WHOEVER SAID, "DON'T CRY OVER SPILLED MILK" NEVER SPILLED ANY
By Bronwyn Brunner
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"Sydney, turn on the TV."

"I can't reach. Waitaminute."

SCREECH.

These barely discernible sounds traveled up to my room at 6 a.m. I had been up to pee at least eight times (a feature of being seven months pregnant), and I had been up to help someone else pee once. I had been up to explain that we were not in the wolves' house and yes that was just a dream. My husband, of course, did not hear these morning stirrings; he doesn't hear until at least 7 a.m. It's that anthropological I'll-stave-the-beast-off-once-you've-heard-him-and-trapped-him-and-come-to-tell-me thing. That's why our hearing is so good. A blessing? Maybe -- depends on what the beast has to offer.

I tried to pretend not to hear these urchin voices, in hopes that my reality would, I don't know, sort of fade.

It didn't work.

I turned to the clock.

It's not even 6 a.m.! I'll just sleep a little more, I think to myself.

"MAAAAAHHHHHMMMMMMMMM!"

Uh! Agh! One glance at the green numbers, no 6 to be seen, only a 7. Something told me I would pay for my sleep indulgence.

Down I went to meet my doom.

Cheerios, peanut butter, cocktail olives, a sample of each of the boxed juices that Costco has to offer (were they used for tasting or squirting?), milk (kids don't spill just a little milk), Playdough, glue, paint and everyone's favorite -- glitter. I can't tell you what was craft and what was breakfast. I can tell you that it was difficult to see the kitchen floor and that milk and glitter together make up one of the more difficult to clean substances.

It was only 7:09 a.m.

Oh yeah, my two kids were safe. I mean physically. I guess the jury is still out on the psychological damage incurred. This was not an incident that prompted a '90s parental reaction. (Maybe my 4-and-a-half-year-old was trying to tell me that she wasn't nursed long enough? Maybe my 2-and-a-half-year-old was not feeling grounded today? What's the real meaning behind this mess?)

No, no, I lost it.

That night I had a Zennish thought: "This is IT. There is no IT once they get through this age or that age. This IS the part I'm going to wish for," and I went to sleep grateful -- if only for 22 minutes.
SALON | Jan. 19, 1998

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