Because I Said So: Sure, moms do a lot, but we can't do it by ourselves

Published August 25, 2011 in the Commercial Appeal

On Sunday, I took my boys to see the new movie "Spy Kids -- All the Time in the World in 4D." (The 4D ended up being a scratch-and-sniff postcard with eight numbers on it. When a number flashed on the screen, you scratched off the number and smelled it. I'm pretty sure it was a hoax, because I couldn't discern one smell from another.)

Sometimes I am excited about seeing the same movies as the kids, and sometimes I'm not. I went into this one with very low expectations, and was immediately disgusted by the opening scene. A very pregnant Jessica Alba is seen battling numerous bad guys. If being pregnant weren't enough, she also had to go into labor.

Please.

We learn that she retires after having the baby. However, later she is pulled back into the action. This time, she does most of her fighting wearing her now 1-year-old baby in a front-facing baby carrier.

Seriously.

I'm pretty sure the creators of this movie were trying to promote a positive image of today's moms "doing it all." I now understood why one of the preview trailers was for Sarah Jessica Parker's newest movie, "I Don't Know How She Does It" -- a comedy centered on the life of Kate Reddy, a finance executive who is the breadwinner for her husband and two kids. Clearly, they were appealing to the dutiful moms who agreed to spend an hour and a half scratch-and-sniffing simulated dirty diapers in the dark out of love for their children.

And now I see why they also previewed "The Iron Lady," which is about Margaret Thatcher, Great Britain's first female prime minister. (A dad next to me joked, "Children love Margaret Thatcher.")

This business of "women doing it all" has never looked more ridiculous than it does in "Spy Kids 4." I do a lot, but I certainly don't do it all. I really don't like the assumption that I should, because I can't -- at least not all of the time. It's too exhausting.

Jessica Alba's husband, Wilbur, was a little clueless, so her only help was her two stepkids and a witty, multifunctional robotic dog. I also need, and thankfully receive, a lot of help.

My husband, who is definitely not clueless, handles most of the afternoon shuttling required to get the children to and from school, tae kwon do, and now soccer. He also does the bulk of the yard work, goes grocery shopping and cooks most of our meals, among many, many other things that I probably fail to notice or fully appreciate.

My mom calls to check on me almost daily, and graciously lets the kids spend the night at her house so my husband and I can occasionally have a moment to ourselves.

I have friends who get up before the crack of dawn to go running or swimming or to yoga with me, so I can't talk myself out of it. (They also encourage me to go out to lunch and enjoy a drink every once in awhile. And that's really just the tip of the iceberg.)

I am grateful for all of the many wonderful people in my life, but if I had all of the time in the world, as the movie promises, I would definitely try to squeeze in a little more sleep.