Dear Horrible Mom

Dear Horrible Mom—

Yeah, I am talking to you. The mom who struggles with keeping a clean house while balancing a job and her family. The one who hates to cook and allows her husband to prepare meals. A crotchety, frustrated, spent mom who finally loses it at the end of the day and yells at her children (Okay, let’s be honest. It might be more like 9:30 am.) Sometimes I see you in the parking lot wrangling your crazy kids as they put every reflex, not to mention ounce of patience, to the test—and it fails. Other times I see you stressing over your time, trying to figure out if you have actually spent enough time just listening to your kids. You wonder if your husband even remembers your name, or what you look like for that matter. You really can’t keep up with every detail, no matter how hard you try.

Let’s face it—you are a real loser. Not just a loser, but a failure. You aren’t helping anyone—not your kids, not your husband, not your coworkers, not anyone. Your kids will grow up to be degenerate, unintelligent, disrespectful people. Your husband will finally look at you one day and realize just how far you have let yourself go. Your job will suffer to the point that no one would ever keep you on staff or hire you. Your church is completely devastated at your lack of participation and leadership. I could go on and on listing out your future disappointments.

At some point, you break. You cry into your pillow, your steering wheel, your laptop, or just whatever’s closest. Who could ever understand what you feel like? Who could put up with such a depressing, pathetic excuse for a mother, wife, friend, and wait…..I can’t even list the rest of the roles you place because it makes me tired.

The truth is that every woman on this planet in every era of history has taken a moment out of her day to label herself a horrible ____________. (You can fill in the blank—worker, wife, sister, friend, etc.) It’s almost like it’s in our DNA to be hard on ourselves. We are our own worst critics. I guarantee, in most cases, someone around you thinks that you are doing a great job. But why would a horrible mom listen to anything positive about the pitiful job she was doing?

I am about to get very real with you here. I am that horrible mom. My husband cooks in our household. Our house is in total chaos a majority of the time (Oh okay—all the time). My car looks like homeless cats probably live inside. Some days, I don’t want to be the best. All I want is to sleep. Maybe even without a foot in my eye socket. I look around at the chips on the floor, the laundry on the back of the couch, the sticky wetness on the door frame (what in the heck is that?) and literally think there is no more horrible mother than I. Forget the fact that I spend waayyy too much time working. I struggle trying to find a balance between my editing time for my job, instructing the boys for school, and just enjoying real face to face time with them. Did I hug them enough today? Did I grade that spelling test? Did I remember to edit that booger off that child’s face in the family picture? Yeah, I am a jumbled up mess some days.

It’s usually on the days where I feel like that horrible mom that I talk to another person who vents to me the exact same struggles that I have had that day and I smile. Relief floods over me and I realize, IT’S NOT JUST ME! I scream it on the inside, from the rooftops of my, uhhh, greater intestine maybe. I usually look her straight in the face and say “Preach sister.” That’s when I realize how important it is for women—not just moms—to be very careful of the social media trap. You know exactly what I am referring to. You can’t sleep (mainly because you are stressing over what you have to do tomorrow, or next week even) so you mindlessly open Pinterest. You scroll nonchalantly through the pins and you stop on that amazing article—How to Clean Your House in a Week (and keep it clean for eternity with 15 minute spot cleanings). Or maybe that article that should give you all the feels—500 Things You Should do With Your Toddler Before they grow up and go to Kindergarten. Or my personal favorite—30 Days to Weighing Exactly What you Think You Should Weigh (with a gorgeous butt). You see pictures of beautiful homes with playrooms that look like no child has ever been there. You see a list of things you should probably do with your kid that you couldn’t complete before he was 30. You glance over and realize that you couldn’t do those exercises even if it meant that someone would gift you a million dollars and do them for you. And don’t even get me started on Facebook. The statuses that haunt me look a little like this: “I completely cleaned my house, had 15 houseguests over for an absolutely awesome party, cheered my son as he threw a no hitter, and now it’s 9pm and I am crawling under the covers about to get it on with the man of my dreams.” We compare not only what we look like, but what we are doing, how we do it, and who did it on less sleep. Sometimes, it can even be the opposite. We compare who has the worst of it. You know the people who groan on and on about how bad their life is. Let’s just be real. Social media needs a good dose of reality and positivity. Is it okay to say that in the same sentence?

So let’s bring this letter back around. It’s time to change a few things horrible mom. First, it’s time to stop being so hard on yourself. I bet (well unless you have a teenager) if you ask your kids right now about the job you are doing, they would praise you. If you talked to a coworker, they would be able to highlight something you did right. Your husband could probably tell you some vital thing you did to keep the house running. We are way harder on ourselves than other people. It’s time we get out of the self-pity and get on the positive. We can’t encourage our kids to think positively about themselves and their bodies if we constantly exhibit the opposite.

Second, get out of the comparison game. It’s a no win situation. There will always be someone better out there. Photography actually taught me this. No matter how much I learn, no matter how much I improve, there will always be someone who is better at photography than me. Once I finally became okay with that, I was able to grow and accept my own work for what it was—mine. It’s the same with womanhood. There will always be a better mom, a better friend, a better wife—but your family, your friends, your coworkers accept you for you—failures and all.

Third, get real on social media. Had a kid poop down your back while you were working? Post it. House looks like a velociraptor had a house party? Post it. Turned an entire load of laundry blue? Post it. Why? Because you will get 50 responses from folks who had the same kind of day and will say, “It does get better. It happens to the best of us.” What should you not post? Keep all spouse rants, bullying, and hatefulness to yourself. Beating down someone else will NOT make you feel better about yourself.

And last, but certainly not least, let people compliment you. Don’t be like me horrible mom. When my husband tells me how much he appreciates me, I sometimes sigh in my head and think, “I bet you do. It meant you didn’t have to do it.” That’s a crappy attitude and there is no place for it (even during PMS). When someone at work compliments a project or someone who is competing with you for a job says something nice, don’t automatically dissect their compliments to find the sarcasm or hidden meanness. When the older lady in Walmart tells you how awesome your kids are behaving as you are quickly pulling your toddler’s pants back up (the ones he had pulled off and was swinging around his head like a lasso) and giving your other child the “put that down before I lose it” look—smile, hug her, and cry on her shoulder. Some of them haven’t forgotten what it was like to be in your shoes.

All this to say, horrible mom, that you are not so horrible. You are an amazing creature that juggles like a clown, is faster than the Flash, needs less sleep than Elf, saves more days than Wonder Woman, and loves more than any person on earth. That in itself is not so bad.

Sincerely Yours,
A Horrible Mom