Dear Fellow Mom,
I salute you. Yes you, the one reading this with spit up on your shirt, your hair in a messy bun that hasn’t been cleaned in 3 days. I commend you. You are running on maybe 4 hours of sleep and can juggle a baby on your hip, while you unload groceries and make lunch at the same time. You are my hero and I just want you to know that you are not alone.
I’m going to be real for a moment. I hope that’s okay… I mean, I know you probably think my home is pristine and I spend my day’s making Pinterest wreaths and lounging around in my makeup when I have no where to go. Let me just pop that bubble right now!
Most days, I can’t wait till 8pm. That is the magical time when I put my 18 month old to bed.
I feel like I have to wait to get all my chores done once my child is asleep because while he is awake it’s my job to save his life numerous times when he decides he is going to leap off the couch. My day consists of cleaning up spilled milk, food and spit up. Very glamorous.
It’s like I am caught up in a whirlwind of chaos and the moment
I try to get something done, my son needs me.
My house looks like a war zone, toys are everywhere. And I mean everywhere, in cabinets, behind the entertainment center, inside the couch and I haven’t seen my son’s rug in a few weeks. They don’t put that on Pinterest. And who has time for all those DIY projects anyway? I can’t even sit a pen and notepad down on the couch without my toddler scribbling on the furniture. So no Pinterest, I will not be bringing out the glue gun.
Right now I have about 3 mounds of laundry placed strategically around my home that I still have to fold and put away. There are probably toys in there too. And let’s not talk about what is under the couch. I hope I’m not the only mom that has tossed out a few mildew bottles because they were just that gross and I didn’t have the time or energy to clean it. What about discipline?
Disciplining a toddler is like banging your head against a wall repeatedly all day long.
Cruel torture. I feel like a failure most of the time because my son doesn’t listen, no matter what method I use. Nothing works right now…. “time out” is fun for him, I could literally say “no” till I’m blue in the face and honestly, I am trying not to laugh when he gives me that devious grin that means, “Whatcha gonna do now momma?”
So like I said, being a mom is hard. When my husband gets home and sees the house and a messy momma who hasn’t showered and is still in her pj’s – he must be thinking, “What has she been doing all day?” Thankfully he doesn’t say that.
But that is about the time I break down into tears because unless you are a mom, you don’t understand how hard it is.
You are always worrying about your babies. You are sleep deprived and hormonal. You are self conscious about your post-baby body and feel like you will never live up to the mom’s in your head that you’ve placed on a pedestal. Let me tell you, knock those pedestal’s over ladies because us momma’s are all in the same boat and I can guarantee that same mom agrees with everything above.
No one is perfect and the best part is, it’s okay. We don’t have to be perfect. We don’t have to try to be like the mom down the street, or act like we have it all together on Facebook or Instagram. Embrace your beautiful mess. Some days, I catch myself thinking – oh if only my son were a few years older and he could clean up after himself. Or once he is out of the house, my home will finally be clean.
Oh dear momma, this is the best time of our lives. This is when the tears start flowin’. Once our babies are grown and there aren’t any more toys to be found, we will look back to this season in our lives and we will miss the beautiful mess. We will ache in our souls for the chance to rock our precious baby at 2am or watch Cars again for the 10 millionth time.
So yes, today may have been hard. I don’t doubt that one bit. But I pray that you will find hope in knowing that you are living the best time of your life right now. Embrace your chaos, because it’ll be over sooner than we think.
PS. Can you pass me a tissue?