I spend a significant amount of time judging myself as a mother. I question myself, I freak out, I worry, and I work myself up about it. I became a mom 4 1/2 years ago, and I”m still like… HOW DOES ANYONE KEEP IT ALL TOGETHER?!?
Sometimes, I’ll take my kids to target ( my holy place). It usually falls apart within 30 seconds.
That’s right. THIRTY-SECONDS.
My little dumplings refuse to sit in a cart. UNLESS, it’s a double cart with some sort of amazingness. My target specifically hides these carts from me, because I believe they truly hate me. I try to compromise. I put the baby in the front, and I let the other two hang off the sides like they’re in balancing act via cirque du soleil. If I encounter a bump, the two of them usually go flying. Then it’s a disaster of booboos and, “MOMMY I NEED A TREAT TO FEEL BETTER.”
I give zero f*cks. I travel to target for one thing and one thing only. I end up leaving the store with about $3,000,000 brand new toys that were not on my shopping list. I want to scream at my kids, ” JUST GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND RALLY ON!”. But, instead they cry, I cry, we all cry.
It’s a little therapeutic crying in Target if you believe Target is a holy place, which I obviously do. Where else can you get a random glitter bath bombs and a box of Pinot Grigio?
If you’re thinking that Wallmart has these items, you’re wrong. Wallmart is where I go when I need a ton of gluten free shit when I’m feeling sorry for myself, Wallmart but that’s about it.
I praise God for target at least once a day.
I also pray that I can make it through the 20 aisles of random shit, without crying.
So… I saw this mom. Three kids. Maybe a little older than mine, but not by much. She has ALL THREE OF HER CHILDREN LISTENING AND COOPERATING. She didn’t even bribe them. I just wanted to reach out to her and beg her to show me her ways of magical parenting.
Just as I saw that mom, she may have seen me.
Her view would look a little like this…
My eldest daughter will have started screaming about needing new shoes before we’ve even made it through the $1 area. My middle child would likely be found rolling around in one of the card asiles, while screaming, ” MOMMY MOMMY MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMYYYY”
I might pretend she’s not mine. Just kidding. Kinda.
My baby will be crying in the cart while checking out all the flourescent lighting. I don’t blame her. She’s still kind fresh in this big ‘ol world right now. Apparently, the lighting in target is some sort of entertainment for her.
I’m also a huge advocate of going to target in my pjs. So, as you can tell, I’m a real gem.
But, I constantly compare myself. If that mom had her kids under control, whats wrong with me? Why can’t I do that?
I see moms all the time doing amazing things with their children. They help their kids down the slide, and swing them on the swings. Meanwhile, I”m trying to convince Maeve that it’s not safe to stand in the way of incoming traffic.
I’m so consumed with trying to be the best mom with the most snaps, the most instagram postings and the most Facebook likes. We all do it. Every single one of us.
Tha’ts motherhood though. We want to be the best parent we can be can be. Regardless, if we’re rasiing a tiny zoo full of monkeys, we are still doing our thing.
If you really think about it, we can do it all. I can balance two sippy cups, a package of wipes, and my 10 month old, while I walk up the stairs. I can do that.
I can always just quite comparing myself to the random super moms in my hood. They’re struggling too. We’re all in this together. This crazy, lovely, annoying, determined, and beautiful mess of it all. We’re all in it, and we can have it all. Having it all has a different description for each of us. For me, it’s balancing the kids on less that 4 hours of sleep. For others it might be as simple as cooking dinner and having your family eat it without complaining.
That’s having it all. And if you don’t have it all? Who cares. You’re still doing your amazing mom thing, you got this. I promise. You’ll soon realize your strength is beyond what you could have ever imagined.
I have to stop writing this now, because my two year old is literally trying to assault my four year old.
Ah, the joys of motherhood.