To All the Crap Moms,

meeting of the mom

Sometimes I am a “crap” mom. And it is ok. My children have run around outside in our yard naked. They have spent hours watching Netflix because Mommy needed a break. They have had cheese single sandwiches with cheese doodles for lunch.  They have had candy and juice. They have played unsupervised. They are read bedtime stories almost every night. They live in a home full of kisses and hug. They are expected to say please and thank you. They are full of smiles and laughter. I am not a perfect mom but that is ok.

You want to know the truth about motherhood? We all screw up. All of us. Contrary to what Facebook, Instagram, andPinterest choose to lead you to believe. Motherhood is messy. And each one of us has made a mistake at some point in our experience. Shit. We all have made multiple mistakes. There is no such creature as a parent who gets it right every time, all the time. This is just an illusion created by the filter of society. And if you have the balls to look me and the face and say never ever, I am going to call bullshit.  I am tired.

I am tired of the cat-calling, the put-downs, the “I think my shit doesn’t stink” attitudes that we as parents continue propagate.  I am tired of new moms being torn apart over and over again. I am tired of our continual inability to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes. What happened to compassion? What happened to the tribe of mothers that banded together in a time of need? Instead, I see on shrew after shrew tear each other down. “Can you believe she did this?”.  “I would never…blah. Blah. Blah.”.  It is all bullshit.

my boys

These two are my whole world but even sometimes I need a break.

Every single one of us has locked ourselves in a bathroom, curled up crying over a candy bar. Children screaming in the background. Dinners waiting to be made. Laundry to be folded.  Bills to be paid. Significant others needing attention. We stretch ourselves thinner and thinner because we need to keep the image going. We push ourselves to the precipice over and over again. We would cry out for help but then that would call upon the wolves. The martyrs of motherhood. You know them. You are probably “friends” with at least one. They are ones who sacrifices every ounce of themselves like a burning star. It is their duty. It is what motherhood means. Only the weak cry out for help. Self-care equates selfishness in their eyes.  They are doing it for their kids they say.

What they are really doing is creating this hostile environment with out of reach standards. Woman are led to believe that they are not good enough of a mother. They are consumed by their doubts because they are looked down upon.  There is this crazy notion that is better to drown looking prefect that show the world your imperfections. I don’t care that I am not a perfect mother. I just want my children to have a good mother. A mom that tried her best. A mother who when she was too overwhelmed swallowed her pride and screamed for help. I want my children to know that they can love themselves as is, mistakes and all.

So hear me now, it is ok to not be perfect. It is ok that you aren’t meeting the image. If your children are happy, loved, healthy, in the end that is all that truly matters. Sometimes in life we need to be reminded that we are not alone. We have all been there, just like our mothers before us. Even your great-great-great grandmother thought she was screwing up at some point. But the truth is, you are probably doing just fine.

2 thoughts on “To All the Crap Moms,

  1. Yes, the accuracy police and critics often seem to prevail. But you are loving your kids and that is sooo big. Keep up the good work mom, you are very special.


  2. This must be a theme in the air, because I’ve read a few posts recently like this. Time to put those wrong-thinking self-proclaimed “perfect” (perfectly fake) mothers in their places. They certainly aren’t doing any favors for those of us who are real imperfect mothers with real imperfect children!

    I’m a grandmother now, with four adult kids in their 20s and 30s, and two grandchildren with a third on the way. Yet I still remember the pain and anger associated with comments made by unkind people – usually other mothers – so many years ago. And sadly, I see my daughter (the mommy of my grandchildren) going through this now. Times really haven’t changed in this regard.


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