I often strive to be a better mom and sometimes when I have the patience, I attempt to be a better human. I try to find balance in a life that seems to have very little and I aim to be tolerant when my will has broken into millions of pieces and the only thing keeping me together is that I’m too tired to flip out.
I also endeavor to be grateful and mindful and kind…like Buddha.
When I envision Buddha, I conjure images of a plump Asian man seated under a Bodhi tree, surrounded by the light of God. I think of lotus flowers, the reverberation of “Om” and I picture reclined bronze sculptures adorned with offerings– all relaxed and lazy looking, beaming with serenity and peace.
And herein lay the problem.
It’s not often you see statues of Buddha looking disheveled, balancing a screaming child in one arm and groceries in the other while trying to unlock a front door with his teeth in the rain only to kick open the door and fall on a Hot Wheels toy, do you? Nope – you don’t.
It’s unlikely you will find Buddha racing home from work, stuck in a sea of parked cars on the 101 freeway, stressing that he will miss pick-up time at school. I doubt you will find him doing dishes and making lunch at 11:30 pm or picking poop out from underneath his fingernails or watching Brave for the millionth time because it’s the only thing that keeps his kid from screaming bloody murder during a diaper change. And btw, his kid is too old to be wearing diapers anyhow but every time he tries to take him to the toilet it’s like World War 3. And you definitely won’t find Mr. Buddha pulling his hair out over conference calls or lack of sleep, probably because he doesn’t have any hair, but mostly because he is too busy being all Zen and shit.
And I think to myself…how frikin’ nice it must have been to be Buddha – alone in the mountains, meditating and contemplating life. I’m sure if I had ventured into the woods all by myself for months on end I would be a penchant for peace, kindness and compassion too. But no, I’m an overworked, exhausted, short-tempered mother and the closest thing I have to enlightenment is a book called, “Finding Bliss in 3 Easy Steps.” Gag me. It’s not like I have time to actually read the book.
About the only thing Buddha and I have in common at this point is a rotund belly – his filled with joy and laughter – mine filled with high chair crumbs and 10 extra pounds I’m having a hard time shedding because I can’t get to my yoga class which is supposed to help me with my f-ing patience! Ugh.
Buddha – 1
Nicole – 0
– The Confessioness
No yogis were hurt during the creation of this post 😉
You can also find this post here on Huffington Post Parents.