I recently drug my children out to a work-related class. It was short in duration so I opted to take them along. While there I had someone ask me, “So what have y’all been doing all day?”
I’m certain she meant nothing negative by her question, but how I perceived it is a different story. I felt judgement. I felt questioning of my parenting skills. I immediately searched my frazzled mind for an answer. What had we been doing all day?! I didn’t have any sort of answer that sounded good to me. We hadn’t completed any educational lessons on our ABC’s or 123’s. We hadn’t completed any vast array of fun crafts that abound on the internet this time of year. We hadn’t baked anything, read any books or Bible studies, delivered unwanted items to families in need, or provided our morning to community service outreach programs.
We hadn’t really done anything!
Our morning was more like this:
We woke up late. (That’s just how our family rolls!) Despite the multiple seating options in the living room, everyone piled into my lap, and fought over my affections as we watched a cartoon together. We made breakfast together. They ate while I gulped coffee. I cleaned up the eggs thrown across the kitchen floor. I cleaned the kids up as well, but saved the dishes for nap time. I dressed them. I attempted to dress me. Heck, it seemed like most of my time that day had gone into preparations to get us all ready, packed, out the door, and crammed into the van (imagine babies in oversized coats) to get to this meeting on time. But somehow answering, “I got them ready to come here!” just didn’t seem like a good enough response.
I wanted to say we had toured a local dairy and learned all about raw milk versus pasteurization. Or maybe answer we had chopped down our own Christmas tree, and made crocheted angels and strings of popcorn to decorate it. I wanted to brag about my three year old’s piano lessons I had given her myself while the baby ate her homemade baby food from vegetables I had grown in our garden.
I may have wanted to answer these things, but I in no way could imagine having really done them, nor did I even want to. Just the thought of my imagined parenting forays was exhausting enough. I was too tired from keeping them alive to have the strength for Chopin. But that part of me, that part that thinks I should be more, do more; that part held her head in shame. And as I looked down in disgrace I noticed a dried bit of spit-up on my sweater and a hardened fruit snack stuck on the hem of my pants.
And so it goes with us moms. We are our own worst enemy, constantly feeling like we don’t measure up, constantly wondering why we can’t. Well, maybe not constantly. Thankfully, a majority of the time we’re really enjoying playing dolls or cars with our tiny charges. But the rare instances where we feel compelled to compare ourselves to other women, where we feel under the judgement of another mother, a woman who we imagine has it all figured out and is so much more advanced in the homemaker skill; these tiny moments seem to overshadow all the awesome stuff we accomplish in any given day.
We see the cute crafts being completed in other homes, or the learning projects done, and we feel less. You see the mom at the playground with her hair perfectly in place, make-up just right, her matching daughter sitting daintily on a park bench quoting poetry, and you wonder if you’re doing it wrong, with your stained yoga pants, and child in mismatched socks, hair bow long gone, throwing sand on another kid for no reason whatsoever.
I am here to tell you it’s okay. It’s okay if you don’t have it all together. I don’t think anyone does, even if they appear they do. They’re just better at covering up the stains than you are.
I think it’s okay if you feel like you’re just surviving, just getting by, just making it from one day to another. You know why? Because you are. You are getting by, and that’s something to be celebrated. Motherhood is hard. No one is perfect at it. We’re all just getting by to one degree or another, keeping little people alive, fed, clothed, nurtured, and hopefully a life-long lesson tossed in here and there. And that is okay. That is actually great.
I’m here to tell you that you don’t need anyone’s approval but that of the smiling little faces you see when you look down. They are the final say on how you’re doing, and I’d be willing to bet they think you’re doing a pretty awesome job.
They don’t want perfect days from you. They just want days with you. They want your time, your attention, your love. If you’re giving that then you’re probably doing a wonderful job, whether you want to admit it or not.
They don’t care if the cake rises. They just like licking the batter from the bowl. They don’t care if Dr. Phil, Dr. Spock, or Dr. Sears says it’s for the best. They want whatever Dr. Mom wants, and to them, that’s the best.
If you spend all day with your child and you think you have accomplished nothing, then you’re wrong. You’ve actually invested another 24 hours into the raising, protection, and nurture of another human being. There is no greater calling, with no greater return.
Good job on your day Momma! Let no one tell you different. Ever. Especially yourself.
That is all 🙂
Lana says
Amen. Sometimes I feel that way too!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thanks for reading. Hang in there momma 🙂