I can’t remember a time when I didn’t compare myself to every other girl in the room.
As far back as I remember.
She’s prettier than me.
Skinnier than me.
Smarter than me.
More popular than me.
Has nicer clothes than me.
She’s just plain old better than me.
That shit is tiring!
So I’m working hard to make sure my girls don’t grow up with those same thoughts running through their awesome little heads.
Because I don’t want them to become moms with those thoughts running through their awesome heads.
I think a lot of us moms have those thoughts.
I think we compare ourselves to every other mom out there.
She’s a better mom than me.
We put way too much pressure on ourselves…
I mean, we all have those friends.
The hot one. With multiple kids.
And a six pack.
Or the one who has made a perfectly detailed baby book.
And scrap book.
And video montage.
Not just for her first child. And second child.
But even for the third child.
There is the mom who is involved in every single activity known to mankind.
She’s a girl scout leader. And president of the PTO. And class mom. And the team mom. And an official at the swim meets. A volunteer at the hospital. And she delivers meals on wheels. And runs marathons.
In addition to her full-time job.
There is the loaded mom. With the hot husband. And the beautiful kids. And the huge, perfect house. And the membership to the country club.
Then there is the stay at home mom who has taught her children to crochet their own Barbie clothes. And bake bread from scratch. They make their own playdough. And lots of other annoying shit.
Out of paper mache.
I hope you are aware that all these people are hiding at least one secret.
And I have a theory.
The more seemingly perfect the mom, kids, and entire family are on the outside…
The more secrets they have to hide…
But nobody wants to let anyone know.
Because then you don’t seem…
Because we are always comparing ourselves to each other.
And feeling bad about ourselves.
Which is why I started this blog in the first place.
Because nobody is perfect.
But for some reason, we look at other moms, and we think they are.
I mean, look at Martha Stewart…
Who is more perfect than her?
Hmmm… I don’t know….
All of us moms who haven’t…
GONE TO JAIL???
And what about all of my Real Housewives?
They seem to have it all.
But they have all the same problems the rest of us do…
Cheating husbands, raging tempers, drug and alcohol addictions, eating disorders, post partum depression, kids in jail, a past as a stripper…
Like I said…
So yesterday a reader, and friend, wrote this comment:
Thanks for writing everyday. I am sure it is not easy and you certainly don’t need another thing on the to do list, but I appreciate it. You’ve made me laugh, you’ve made me cry, and you’ve made me feel normal. Thank you!
I’ve been waiting for that comment!!!!
….you’ve made me feel normal.
When I first set out to write this blog, I had 2 goals:
First, to make people laugh.
And second, to help people, especially moms, realize that we all go through the same shit.
All of us.
But no one really wants to talk about it, because then you appear less than.
But let’s get one thing straight.
You are going to fuck up.
And your kids are going to fuck up.
And it’s okay.
Because that’s normal.
Holding it in and hiding all those fuck ups does nothing.
Except for eat away at you.
And feeling ashamed or embarrassed and keeping that crap hidden can have some really awful consequences.
Really. Awful. Consequences.
I have lived my life as a fairly open book.
But, as evidenced by Sunday’s post, I still have a couple secrets.
So I’m going to start unloading the ones I have left.
Because after Sunday, I feel about 100 pounds lighter.
I don’t look it, but I feel it
So feel free to join me.
If you’re feeling particularly brave, leave a comment on the blog.
Get it off your chest.
You’ll be surprised by what happens.
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