When Crystal told our group of friends about a comic strip based off her "interesting" moments with what crazy things her kids say/do, I totally laughed at the sample one she showed us! If you have ever read any of her hilarious Facebook posts about the conversations they have, you would be to! Here she is to talk a little about the woes of motherhood, and how it helped her to find her way into the comic strip world. Take it away, Crystal!!
First off, thank you to the Really Real Housewives for letting me come visit this blog!
First off, thank you to the Really Real Housewives for letting me come visit this blog!
I’m
here to talk about how I have fun despite the trials of being a mom. There’s
two things you should know about me before I get started:
1. I’m
a yellow personality. I thrive on fun and excitement. If I don’t have something
to look forward to, I fall into a bit of a depression. So I chase “fun” like
it’s my job and sometimes that means I do too much and go too hard.
2. My
third child, Hazel, broke me. My two older ones were pretty easy babies (I
realize now). They were cheerful and didn’t mind my nonstop, chase-every-moment
lifestyle. They were also well-behaved enough that I could feel relatively
secure in my mom skills. But then Hazel came along. Every opinion I had about
myself as a mother; every plan I made; every hope and dream I held for the
future – she shat on all of that. Firmly and intentionally, while maintaining eye-contact.
Once
Hazel came along, I realized that I wasn’t in charge anymore and my previous priorities
would have to be seriously rearranged.
No, I can’t show
up at church with perfectly coifed children. You’re lucky they’re wearing pants right now.
No, I can’t go
on an extended family camping trip. I have no plans to leave my house for the
next five years.
No, I won’t join
you in scoffing at that mom with the out-of-control toddler. My youngest just
threatened to kill me with a pillow. I have no room to judge anyone.
I
make light of it, but the reality was hard. By the time Hazel was two, I was in
a dark place. Really, real dark. I had some hard thinking to do about who I was
and what my limits were.
I
made the choice to keep going, to keep trying, to keep failing, to keep trying
again. My vision of being this awesome mother had been totally shattered. I
mean, straight to pieces. But in the end, it was a good thing. Instead of
momming like the magazines and the commercials, I started momming based on what
I was actually capable of doing. Instead of looking outward and mimicking the
moms that seemed to have it all together, I realized I couldn't -- literally
couldn't -- keep up if all my goals for myself were based on what other people
were doing and thinking. I had to get down on my rusty knees, beg for Heavenly
help and accept that I would always be just a bit of a hot mess.
Once
I did all that, something amazing happened. I started having fun again. What
can you do but laugh when your four year old calls the doctor a “bastard” for
giving her a shot? He said he would count to three but then did it on two. It
was kind of a dick move.
And
when your seven year old repeats a very embarrassing health problem you’re
having to a table full of church friends, you can only shrug and say, “Don't
worry, it's not contagious.”
And
when your ten year old asks why his friend’s penis is so much bigger than his,
you hunker down and have a conversation about anatomy. Because why not? I’ve
been to the edge and back. I’ve got nothing left to fear.
I
used to be so scared of the judgments and the humiliation of letting people see
how flawed I was. But the absolute worst happened (someone called the cops on me because Hazel wouldn’t stop crying and
they thought I was abusing her) and happened (AJ told me a horrific tale of playground bullying so I confronted the
mother, all froth and anger, only to find out that about 80 percent of it had
been exaggerated or outright made up and my daughter was actually the one
bullying) and happened (after my
first year of homeschooling, I took Griff in for a reading test and found out
he was well below grade level). And I lived.
So
I guess that’s my big secret: understand that being a mom is ugly business and
any moms who act otherwise are probably faking it. Or they haven't been blessed
with their own Hazel yet. Once you’re secure in this reality, you can enjoy the
particular bit of madness you’ve been given.
And
then you can turn it into a comic like I did! And I named it after my general plea to the world: Please Don't Call Child Services.
Crystal Liechty is the mastermind behind the Please Don’t Call Child
Services webtoon, which details the always funny and often
inappropriate hijinx involved in homeschooling three mischievous children. If
you’ve been to college lately, you might have seen one of her essays in the Elements of Arguments textbook (Macmillan Press). When not homeschooling
or torturing college students with argumentative essays, Crystal can be found
watching Korean dramas, teaching herself Kpop dances or in general working as
an unofficial ambassador for South Korean culture. Find out more about her
online comic by visiting her official Facebook page or blog.
