If you’ve scrolled through Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram lately, you’ve probably seen your fair share of mom-related posts, categories, and groups to join. While we’re fortunate to have an extensive amount of support tools at our fingertips, these very classifications are what’s hurting our egos and shooting down our self-worth as mothers, spouses, and professionals. Why must we attempt to fit the mold of a specific type of mom? Can we not love feeding our babies organic fruits and vegetables but also believe in disposable diapers and television as a source of entertainment? Are we failing as a parent because we don’t want to include our toddler in everything we do?
Lose the Labels
Being a parent is about more than just picking a label to associate with. We can have just as many terrible moments as we do victorious celebrations. While our monsters may be pint-sized, it’s completely acceptable to admit defeat from time to time, and even more acceptable to lower your expectations from one day to the next. In theory, a perfect day might include a morning nap without the fight, an afternoon filled with sunshine and toothy grins, and a toddler eager for bed earlier than expected, allowing you to relax on the couch with a glass (or bottle) of wine. However, more days than not will be filled with sticky fingers, an endless trail of crumbs, meltdowns, and countless audible sighs. It’s OK to feel weak, to feel burnt out, and even sometimes guilty that you didn’t accomplish everything on your list. Just because we’re moms doesn’t mean we can’t feel guilt, jealousy, and fatigue. Frustration is not a sign of failure, and no one should be conditioned to believe motherhood is a beautiful bed of roses every second of every day.
I’m quick to admit that my toddler has caused me grief, panic, anger, and at times, feelings of complete isolation. Being responsible for another human is exhausting, and no one – not even that seasoned mother of three – has it all figured out. It takes a village to keep my kids happy and my mind slightly sane, and there are times when I need more help than I can possibly get.
Juggling a business, personal blog, and family means early mornings, missed calls, unanswered emails, microwavable meals, and piles of dishes that don’t get touched until 10 p.m. Five out of seven days, you can find me raw faced, hair unkempt, with a cup full of coffee and a glass full of wine. I’m neurotic about a clean kitchen, though it’s usually filled with cracker crumbs and remnants of yesterday’s dinner on the counter and cabinet handles. I’m pro-formula, but not anti-breast. I’m continuously sweaty and I’ve got zero tolerance for clothes not comfortable enough to sleep in. I wear the same yoga pants for several days in a row, fear the laundry room, and believe in a good cocktail when the clock strikes 5 on those days when nothing goes according to plan.
These are the things that make me who I am: a good mom, great friend, enthusiastic entrepreneur, and a decent human being. Some days I’m a marathon winning mom, other days I can’t even jump the first hurdle. It’s the chaos and confusion that make us the moms our kids love and look up to. I wouldn’t change a thing.