The expectation of being supermom is one of the major challenges facing modern women in our society today and I’ve had enough.
We raise kids (sometimes even spouses), we taxi our 2.5 children around to ALLLLLL the sports, activities and social events that we deem necessary (because that’s what our friends are doing), we clean, we try to go to the gym, we clean more things, we try to look nice, we are the family cheerleader, professional stain remover, potty trainer, and on-call therapist.
We should teach our kids real, tangible life lessons but also somehow instill those intangibles that set our kids apart from the pack because supermoms need the superkid as well.
We usually change our clothing 3-5 times per day, because; gym-wear, work clothes, elastic waistband pants from 5-9pm (total must), and random outfit changes due to any combo of kid urine-kid feces-kid snot or that weird dog goo. We walk around with a thing called “Mom Arm” from that ridiculously heavy car seat carrier. We schedule, we craft, we read, we get down on all fours and let our kids pretend they are a puppy owner and we’re their pup. We nurse our kids in public and then are shamed for not covering, when in actuality it’s impossible to cover because your baby will just rip the cover down because who really wants to eat under a hot blanket that manifests boob sweat? We love, we discipline, we try to explain what faith is, why girls and boys have different parts and we teach them to use anatomically correct verbiage such as “penis” only to have them yell “penis” at church. We do night feedings, we haven’t had a nap since 2006, we cry and laugh a lot, and usually at the same time. We are expected to be nice to other humans (such as our significant others), we are expected to be patient when our kid will not wipe, flush and wash even though they’ve been potty trained for several years.
We should look pretty but not THAT pretty because then we’re just a bitch. We should know our worth so we can tell our kids that they are worthy as well but we take very little time for self-care and struggle with feelings of guilt when we do. We should probably volunteer, be on a committee and be a aligned with some sort of charitable organization. Oh, also make sure to have a hobby, so that when we sign up for that committee and the questionnaire asks for a hobby, there’s a quick answer.
The truth is, our breasts and bladders leak, there I said it.
We should know current events, so we can have conversations about things other than our kids. We should have goals, aspirations and a vision, even though all we REALLY want is to watch one solid hour of The Real Housewives of New Jersey with a glass of wine and 2 double chocolate donuts….IN PEACE AND QUIET WITH NO JUDGEMENT.
We are supposed to shower (daily even). If we don’t work outside the home we are made to feel less than, if we do work outside the home we feel ashamed as well. We heal boo-boos, play trucks, and dress up. We are Santa and the tooth-fairy. We go to bed with our significant others but wake up sideways, tangled with 3 kids, a dog and a hard plastic dinosaur digging into our backs. We create beautiful holiday cards and birthday invites that lit-er-all-y take 17 hours. We used to send thank you’s. We are supposed to nourish our children’s bodies, enrich their minds, and create cultural awareness. We coach youth sports, we teach Sunday School, and we play pointless board games that come with shitty directions. We try to not say “fuck” in front of them but almost everything they do make us want to scream it repeatedly really fucking loud. We teach empathy, we travel with 100 pounds of kid contraptions that are supposed to make travel easier, we make forts, we wipe the disgusting caked on food off the high chair straps (seriously soooo gross).
We encourage responsibility, we limit screen time, and we keep them from that horrifying YouTube lady, The Grinch and Leprechauns. We play Lava Monster, the floor is Lava and we also make lava out of slime. We construct chore charts, responsibility charts and behavior charts only to abandon them because we don’t actually have time to chart what a crappy job of Momming we’re doing. We compare ourselves to other Moms and our kids to other kids, which leads to a whole lot of feelings. We try to keep our kids clean (sometimes we use a pool or a hose). We make meals they won’t eat, every damn night. We study, do homework, and help with school projects. We spend countless hours searching the internet for free coloring, math and ABC printables, only to have them not be free and not actually printable. We set boundaries, schedules and routines. We entertain but also give our kids space to be a creative and use their imaginations. We arrange play dates, and drive our loud little humans and their tiny tot counterparts to fun places. We’d love for our kids to be autonomous, but also need us at the same time, because how else would we know we’re loved? Dude, no one thanks a Mom enough.
The guilt, the shame, the worry, the resentment (dramatic pause, sigh, hand to forehead).
We have MAJOR shifts in our hormones throughout our entire lives. We carry around actual humans inside of us for 9 months (and if you’re me it’s 42 weeks which equates to 15 months of pregnancy), ///WE BIRTH///
We’re expected to play all the parts, fill all the roles, and do it with a smile. It’s exhausting trying to do it all and it’s equally exhausting to not let the mind games take over when you have the awareness to stop TRYING to do it all.
The truth is, is that no one really cares what kind of Mom you are, EXCEPT YOUR KIDS. I try to keep this sentiment with me at all times. I try to show up how they need me and everything else suddenly disappears down a river of breast milk, that we probably had a really hard time producing.
mpoweredstate 