I Hate Being The Momager, But I Cannot Help Myself

Let me begin by stating, I am far from perfect. I am not a neat person. I am pretty careless about putting my things back in their proper place or organization in general. I procrastinate in basically every aspect of life. I don’t exercise as much or eat as well as I should, and I know this. I curse a lot and overspend. I am horrible at taking phone messages.

These sticky notes are my spirit animal, and I love them.

I don’t really care if my underwear is folded or the interior of my purse makes sense. But if there is one stray book on the mudroom bench, one snack wrapper left out, or one rogue toy still in the living room at the end of the day, I turn into a territorial Tasmanian devil. Am I the only one who notices these things?

What is the modern term for the main household manager, event planner, and social-media marketer of the family? Who’s grabbing sunscreen for outdoor activities, planned in the name of entertainment, and water for long-ish car rides? Reminding people with little bladders to use the bathroom before putting on shoes and piling into the car?

Mom + manager = momager.

Here I sit, up on my high horse named Suburban Quasi-White Privileged (Upper?) Middle-Class Mom of Two. Please bend an ear–or, well, eyes I guess–and hear me out about the role I’ve willingly taken on that I also despise. 

Recently I asked my adoring husband not once, not twice, but three (!) times to clip one of our two kids’ fingernails. Not even both kids’, just the one who’s very, very antsy when I try to clip them. He seems to behave better when his beloved father is the one restraining him and wielding the clippers. When I say, “Come here,” he actually runs away from me. These nails were guitarist-long. Yes, I could have done it myself well before those three days passed, but honestly? I’m sick and tired of always feeling like I’m the one who notices and the one who does it.

I’ve done the math. If I’m the one responsible for this perpetual job, I have 78 nails to trim every week or so. That includes our twin boys, one fully clawed cat, and me. Doing anything 78 times in a row in a short window of time is more than enough to drive a sane person mad.

And sometimes, I admit it, I place more value on avoidance or delegation of an unpleasant task than I do on demanding straight-up obedience and respect, although it does annoy me that this kid’s instinct is to do the exact opposite of what I say.

I’m only human. For that matter, so is he.

And in my spouse’s defense, he has been super-duper busy with work, and I’m with the kids significantly more than he is. I’m very detail-oriented (“anal” could be said), especially when it comes to our children. I don’t know if it’s something I learned from my parents or something ingrained in my personality, but I will nitpick until they get defensive, and then I try to rein it in.

I don’t like being the one who remembers, who delegates, who makes the lists and goes to the stores.

I actually hate all that. Being the one who is constantly repeating herself because NO ONE LISTENS the first time and then receives dirty looks for YELLING. The one who manages people who don’t like or want to be managed. But I also cannot stand these things not getting done or done to my stupid, self-determined degree of satisfaction.

I feel like I’m the one reminding that kid to eat over his plate because when he doesn’t, he gets his clothes dirty (more laundry) and the floor dirty (more crumbs to have to sweep up). And somehow he ends up getting his hair dirty, don’t even ask. TBH, I won’t necessarily break out our broom, but I do know exactly how many days it is until our monthly cleaning service is scheduled and therefore how many days I will see the dirty floor. I frequently look at the floor when I walk, largely because I’ve suffered 10 ankle sprains and that’s the number of times it takes for me to learn to look where I walk.

This is not to say I remember or even think of everything around here.

Softener-salt levels, the loose towel rack in the kids’ bathroom, regular oil changes for our cars. When to leave to arrive at a destination on time (i.e., early). I haven’t paid a utility bill since, well, 2004. These things are never on my radar, and I am VERY appreciative they are on my husband’s. Lest you think I’m impossible to live with, he hasn’t moved out yet. 

Couldn’t I just abdicate my role as the eternal taskmaster, the scheduler, and the enforcer? Do I have to escalate things to the point of nagging? Couldn’t I just be fine with things not being addressed right away? No. No, I can’t live like that. Call me a control freak or blame my Type-A personality. I am highly irritated by imperfection. With my family, that is.

What are my kids learning from this?

To be self-conscious about their appearance and hygiene? To run when they see me coming at them with a pinky finger aimed at an ear? That I want them to be better than their predecessors in all ways? That because they are my masterpiece, I want the world to see the best version of them? That I’m trying to raise responsible adults who remember to turn off lights when they leave a room? 

I’d love to wrap up this tirade with some productive advice, but I just don’t have much to offer. Yes, I would probably benefit from a dash of therapy. Who wouldn’t? For now, it’s therapeutic to write this down, to try to see things from someone else’s perspective, and to tell myself not to sweat the small stuff. And this momager can take a nap, soak in a bath, and take a restorative mini-vacation from this exhausting work every now and then. 

Disclaimer: After extensive discussion, this is not one my husband’s favorite pieces I’ve ever written. But he has yet to tell me what his favorite pieces are.

Jenny
Jenny is a Madison transplant from Winona, MN, with imaginative and talkative twin boys Cameron and Carson, born November 2010, and one very old kitten Arabella, born March 2003, and one very young kitten JoJo, born May 2018. Her husband is a Madison native and suckered her in to staying. She graduated in 2001 from the University of Minnesota-Duluth with a bachelor's degree in English Literature, currently working in financial services full-time and writing in her scant spare time when inspiration strikes. She tentatively blogs, with brutal honesty, on whippedcreamandkittens.com and frequently Instagrams. Besides whipped cream and kittens, she loves reading, writing, coffee, wine, cooking, traveling, movies, and spending time with family and close friends. Jenny is thrilled to be on the Madison Moms Blog team and happy to share her wacky and sarcastic tales of Madison momhood.

4 COMMENTS

  1. Couldn’t have written it better myself…I love, (but mostly hate), keeping track of every single thing in a household of two adults, two kids, and a dog. Solidarity! And if you figure out a way to not let a candy wrapper left on the counter bother you…let me know 😉

  2. Oh my gosh I completely get this. I’m so drained mentally from trying to keep track of everything. Did you out the clothes in the laundry? Did you shower today? Did you pick up your wrappers? Did you out your clothes away? We’re almost out of ketchsup. When was the last time you cleaned your ears? What do you want for dinner tonight? Not even counting all the lists and all the planning that rests squarely on my shoulders. And to make everything more diffc6, sprinkle in my husband’s adhd and have my 11 yr old daughter act like she’s suddenly 13 or 14yrs old. I want a vacation where I don’t plan anything. I’m not in charge. I don’t have people calling me with their problems. Just one week of people not relying on me. So thank you again for writing this. I hope you had a great hiday and stay safe and healthy. ❤️

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here