A recent conversation about how we as bloggin’ mamas sometimes paint a portrait of a perfect family, home and children made me reflect. If I have been misleading, let me be clear, we are flailing most days, scrambling to find the right words to say in the parenting book, getting locked in the bedroom by the 3 year old, and then chasing him around the house when he refuses to go to the corner. I can assure you that I am completely humbled by this experience of being a mom and I hold no delusions that we are a “picture perfect” family.
I do understand how reading mommyblogs can make one feel alone in her struggles, though. I do not plan to start complaining about my husband and children and venting here on the ol' blog, however. I feel that would be damaging to my relationships with these people I care so deeply about. I don’t mind talking about my own blunders and “real mom” moments like last week when I wore a sweater that I knew had a kid’s dried up snot mark on it. Or when I Dustbustered muffin crumbs off my boys—okay, I have done this more times that I care to admit. Or I could tell you about the time I was making muffins and I could not figure out why they were taking so long to bake. An hour later, I realized I hadn’t turned the oven on! Yup, I’m a real mom! Just the other day Barrett wore rain boots to school, not because it was raining. He didn’t wear them because he loves them and he insisted (which is what I hoped the teacher would assume). Nope. He wore them because his one and only pair of shoes got covered in Play-doh, and washed. I knew his shoes were soaked and it was freezing outside but I still failed to throw them in the dryer to get them dry in time for school. With each step the rain boots seemed to squeak, “bad” “mom”, “bad” “mom.”
I have bad days too. Really. Bad. Days. where my husband comes in the door and I cry in relief that he is home and I actually survived. I am sure my poor husband loves coming home to someone who acts like I’ve been on a deserted island being chased by hungry feral beasts and swarmed and picked at by buzzards. But some days, it’s just about like that—but not because of what the kids do and say but because I do not always know how to respond to what the kids do and say. I learned from my college roommate Jenny, that it's me, not them. She was an elementary education major so she knows.
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3 comments:
Excellent post baby. I echo your comments. The reality of the world is: everybody's "poo poo" (this is a mommyblog afterall) stinks and nobody is perfect. In fact most of us have all the same problems, especially when it comes to kids. Blogging and Facebook are much like high school reunions, everybody is trying to put their best foot forward. Only now its not once every ten years but 24/7. I'm as guilty a anybody of this, but then again I think people are thankful that I don't put a picture of myself up when I first get up in the mornings or after sweating it out in the gym. Love, Cody
AMEN! I have to say that your "bad" mommy stories don't sound so bad though.
What about when you are screaming at your child and you have an out of body experience and look down at your ranting self and think, "I would turn that lady into child protective services." That is a bad day!
I know being a mommy is a continual challenge and how super challenging it is for you. I love the way you can look back at your day and find something good - even if it's only ONE little something good to blog about. It's like finding something to be thankful for every day. In the whole scheme of things, we really tend to remember the good times - even though the bad times happen, too.
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