Tails of a Working Mom: We're Just the Same

I have a tendency to compare myself to others. I know, I know, it is a horrible habit, but one which I can’t seem to help. I see Facebook posts, pictures, and other blogs and think to myself: “Wow! That person really has it all together!” as I am frantically running around the house tripping over bags and clothing and watching the dirty dishes pile up higher and higher in the sink. The Weatherman often has to remind me that people tend to put their best-face-forward on social media, so we never see the nitty gritty in the background. I know this is true, but it still something that is hard for me to grasp. Clean houses, nice furniture, carefully arranged center pieces and not a toy in sight. This does not describe my household. I try to keep the toys contained, and we try to stay on top of the cleaning and laundry, but when you add in two full-time jobs and two children, that doesn’t always happen. I also don’t think it helps that the Weatherman is a hoarder and we have at least 15 boxes of random stuff piled in the family room waiting to be sorted. Or that his papers and text books have slowly consumed his large desk and run over onto our end table, an ottoman, and now onto the floor.

But I digress…

I am learning to accept that I will never have a magazine-picturesque house. And that is okay. I am also learning that everyone struggles, even if they hide it where others can’t see. Maybe that person with the nice car and cool new gadgets and matching furniture is swimming in a sea of loans and credit card debt. Maybe that mother with the styled hair and designer clothing who actually looks like she had a shower is secretly tormented inside because she is constantly trying to live up to the image of the “perfect” mother that society says we need to be.

I have a dear friend at church who I admire for always telling it like it is. She is not afraid to speak her mind and say “yeah, this sucks right now, but I know God will make it better”. I love that about her! Whether it is a messy house, kids (she has 4!) causing trouble, or other general issues, she helps me realize that my life really is normal.

So in case any of you other parents who read this are under the false impression that I actually know what I am doing, let me set you straight:

· I feed my child pb&j more often than I should because it is a quick and easy meal (but at least I use whole wheat bread!)

· Sometimes I wear the same jeans several days in a row as long as there are no visible stains and they don’t smell bad

· Our bedroom has a dirty laundry “pile” instead of a hamper. I literally have to kick myself a path to bed every night so I don’t trip over it when Frog Face wakes me up

· Sometimes my poor cats run out of clean water and I don’t fill it up because I know they drink out of the leaky bath tub faucet anyways

· My bathtub faucet leaks

· We “recycle” plastic and aluminum cans, but we let the bags of recycling pile up in the garage until we have to suck in our bellies to go around it and get to the cars

· TV is a staple in our house (and was for me as well growing up) and as long as Goober is watching relatively decent movies or educational shows, I really don’t care how much she watches if it means she will sit still for a bit so I can change her brother’s diaper

· I occasionally bribe my daughter with candy

· I have been known to sneak candy into another room so Goober does not catch me eating it so I don’t have to share with her

· Our weed-whacker broke last year and we have not trimmed our yard all summer.

· I have a bird feeder outside our house, but I haven’t actually filled it up because I always forget.

· I often long for the kid’s bedtimes just so I can curl up on the couch with my computer and facebook and a tub of chocolate frosting

· I watch toddlers and tiara’s and I am secretly fascinated by it despite the fact I would NEVER let my daughter do it.

· Even though I know I am thin, I am still very self-conscience of my body image, especially since my hair is still falling out and my belly is still flabby from pregnancy

· I have an intense, debilitating, fear of vomit, as unreasonable as that sounds, which I am currently trying to overcome so I can be more present for my kids when they get sick.

I also have a tendency to think of other mom’s as being more knowledgeable or more experienced than myself. It was only when I had Frog Face that I began to realize that maybe other new moms viewed me as the one with more experience. Or at least as their equal. When I took Goober to the pediatrician for a rash she had developed (hello staph infection!) there was another mom there with an 18-month-old and a 2-month-old. Frog Face was still at daycare so I just had Goober. But I watched as the other mom bounced her crying baby and tried to give it a bottle to calm it down while casting furtive glances at the other parents in the room while the 18 month old ran from place to place. I automatically jumped to my assumption that she was a better mom than me and that she knew exactly what she was doing. But looking at her frazzled appearance and nervous demeanor I began to realize that maybe she was viewing me the same way I was viewing her: as more experienced and calm and collected. So I smiled to myself as she finally offered her baby her breast and she calmed right down. I remember my hesitation of nursing in public too. I played with my Goober and entertained her 18-month-old daughter so she could have a break. We chatted and connected, and I think we both realized that we were equals: neither any better nor more knowledgeable about this whole parenting thing.

Everyone has some dirty little secrets that they shove into the closet so others don’t notice. It is instinctual and how we present ourselves to others. This is similar to how if animals are injured, they will try to hide it so they do not appear weak or an easy target for predators. And I don’t know how many blogs, posts, and letters I have read saying the same thing and never believe it: I am just like you.

No, really. I am just like you.

I may be a working mom who appears professional and organized and like I know what I am doing, but like every other mother out there, working at the office or working at home raising children, most of the time I am just winging it with a hope and a lot of prayer and begging the Lord that somewhere along the way I am doing something “right” (whatever that means) and that I don’t screw these little lives up too much. And by sharing our stories, we can laugh and learn a lot from each other and truly realize we aren’t that different at all.