My daughter begins her screech laughter while scream/singing. It is one part adorable, one part ear piercing, migraine inducing. And overall, a big fat sign that it is unequivocally NAP TIME! BIG TIME. “No no no no nap!” she pleads. “Yes yes yes yes nap,” I very maturely return. Seriously, hang out with a two-year-old long enough, you reduce yourself to their level of reasoning skills. 

However, she actually doesn’t mind naps too much. She is one that needs her naps, and on some level seems to realize this. The thing is though, we were having fun… her, brother, and I.  I know what she is waiting for. Every time I have to make the same promise to her. 

“I promise you. We will not have any fun without you. Henry is going to nap too.”

“You promise? Henry nap too? No fun?”

“Yes I promise.” (fingers crossed)

Because while I wish brother is about to nap at the same time as sister, I know that is not what will happen. NOPE. Why? Because no matter how tired I know baby brother is. AND HE MOST DEFINITELY IS. The second I put sister down for a nap, his eyes will grow wide with possibility. 

He is only one, but if he could talk I swear he would be saying out loud, “Sister is asleep? It’s mom and me time! Weeeeeee! I can play with all the toys and finally have all the attention!!! I can’t miss out on this!”

Because dang it!  Both my kids have freaking FOMO!!! So HELP me God.

What is FOMO? FOMO, or ‘Fear of Missing Out’ is a tragic genetic condition that can cause babies to fear sleeping and adults to overcommit and falsely believe that it is actually possible to be at two, and sometimes three, places at the same time, rendering humans afflicted with this condition, both tiny and large, utterly exhausted and stretched beyond all repair. 

And how do I know both my kids have FOMO? Because I gave it to them, and because my Dad gave it to me, and my Grandpa gave it to him.  In fact, I come from a long line of FOMO afflicted humans. “Why yes. Yes, that is my 84-year-old grandfather doing the robot on the dance floor post midnight at my wedding. That’s my Papa!” FOMO.

In fact, like father, like son, because one of my most endearing memories of my father was when he visited me in Colorado, and we went out with the Glendale Rugby team. After a night of karaoke and meeting new friends, my Dad exclaims (genuinely perplexed), “Why are the lights turning on?!” 

“Because Dad. It is 2 AM, and that is when bars close.”  FOMO.

It is a hard life to live, but even harder for the people around you. Poor, poor, hubby… He tries to make me do funny things like put our events into a Google calendar, and just does not seem to understand why overlapping events are “Just fine babe, promise.”  FOMO.

FOMO afflicted humans are these raw balls of energy ready to set their extroverted natures free. Their exhaustion can usually be overcompensated by the propensity of an adventure, meet-up, or really any event with a social subtext.

But wow, being a FOMO mom has a whole new set of challenges. I don’t want myself, or my kids, to miss out on anything. But one of us has to, all the time.

For example, recently, I fought back the very strong urge to enroll my daughter in dance. All her school friends seemed to be doing this, but she’s two. Logically, I knew it didn’t make sense to force her brother to be carted around anymore to her events than he already is, and she has a lifetime of opportunity to fill up our calendar with activities. And then the expense … Let me just say, little people stuff… it starts to add up, big time, and now times two! But the FOMO in me was screaming! I wanted to see my Mom friends, and I wanted Addy to have this special time with some of her little people too. 

But truth be told, even those afflicted with the most chronic and severe cases of FOMO have a chance for… if not recovery… at least remission.

And the antidote to FOMO (Drum Roll, please) is…… motherhood.

I am there. I love my life, my people, and I want to be a part of everything. But I am so freaking tired. Finally, I am exhausted enough that I am not that worried if I miss a girl’s night, a playdate, a meet up, a favorite workout, or a party. Good times can be had without me. It’s OK. I give the world permission to keep on turning. 

My name is Krista, and I have FOMO. 


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