Hello. My name is Momma.”
I am a parent. I have been a recovering parent for 24 years.”
I admit I have no control over my life. It is ruled by my offspring, mostly my teenagers. They come and go without regard to rules, my admonishments or their own well-being.
I have come to believe it will take power much larger than I shall ever have to rectify my situation and restore the sanity sucked from my brain during innumerable sleepless nights walking the floorboards with teething toddlers and ever-hungry babies.
I decided to turn over this quagmire I created to God. Secretly, I feel He had a hand in making my children completely unruly as some sort of pact He had with my mother, in which I should have children who were far worse than I could have ever been, even in retrospect.
I have inventoried my morals and come to believe my children must be an act of Karma which is retribution for something I don’t remember doing in a past life.
I openly admit to God, myself and anyone who will listen to me that having children was 100% my fault. In my innocence, I believed having children would be a way to leave a legacy of good for the future. I have been educated and now know a legacy is donating a plaque to be placed on the front of a building.
I am ready for God to take all of my children and make them into adults without any further interference from me.
Take these minions I have created in my folly and make them responsible adults in the way that I have obviously neglected through my pride.
My children have hurt my parents, each other, our neighbors, teachers, church workers, coaches, piano teachers, dance instructors and the neighbor’s cat.
I contributed to the teacher’s retirement; replaced the neighbor’s windows; gave all the children ice cream; apologized to the church with a check; and volunteered to chaperon three games, two recitals and a prom. I am broke, and identifying anyone else who has been hurt by my children would likely cause both libel and slander.
Each day I take inventory and promptly swallow a birth control pill, lest I transgress and give birth to another child.
I know you have a purpose for my life. I pray You reveal it to me while I await Your instructions here in my rocker, occasionally wiping spittle from the corner of my mouth. Please grant me the strength to get away from the butterfly net patrol when You let me know what I should do next.
In my spiritual awakening, I have gone forth and sought out parents and potential parents. I have warned them of the ill which befalls one when he becomes a parent and provided each with a condom and a picture instruction sheet on its use.
My name is Momma. I am a parent. Thank you.