Since I’ve become a mom, I seem to teeter on the edge between feeling like Super Mom or Super Crazy Mom. I either feel like I’ve got it all together or it’s all falling apart. When it’s good, it’s so good. When it’s tough, it’s pretty darn tough.
Sometimes, I’m Super Mom:
- All of the Christmas presents are wrapped and under the tree.
- I know what I’m bringing to both pot lucks this week.
- I’ve managed to budget well enough that I was able to do a little extra charity shopping this year.
- The recital outfit is all set: skirt and shirt ordered online and arrived, tights, shoes, red hair bows purchased.
- Teacher gifts complete, bagged and labeled.
- Lunch sides are ready for the week.
- Meals are planned and groceries are purchased for the week.
- Laundry is done.
- Advent calendar is stocked.
- I make it to yoga once a week on my lunch break.
- I’ve managed to vacuum once a week since my mom/housecleaner went back to Florida.
- My kids tell me they love me and it warms my heart. This is true love.
Sometimes, I’m Super Crazy Mom:
- I get the stomach bug and even a week later I can’t seem to bounce back emotionally from the lost day.
- I get positive reinforcement that I’m doing a good job raising these kiddos, but I feel utterly exhausted from working so hard to appear calm and positive when chaos surrounds me.
- It seems like constant refereeing with two kids. They are both so wonderful, but when they are fighting, I just can’t take it. I yell at them to stop yelling. Pot, kettle, black.
- My big thing is sleep. Without it, I am a total mess. My husband and I went on a date on Saturday night and I got to bed about an hour and a half later than normal and I struggled all day Sunday. So I tell myself I’ll go to bed earlier, but I end up having to sacrifice my precious self-time to do that and often fail to get to bed any earlier. The viscous cycle continues.
- I’ve been reading the same book for weeks. I can only stay awake to read a page or two at a time.
- I feel like I am constantly late to work or leaving early because of something kid related. I work so hard and hope that I am more reliable than I feel.
- I don’t remember the last time I washed any floors in my house.
- My kids tell me they love me and it breaks my heart that they love me even after the ways I treat them sometimes.
I saw an article running around Facebook recently about the nine different types of moms. I clicked on it and then decided against reading it. I don’t want to be a “type” of mom. I want us all just to be moms doing the best we can. Some days are better than others and some days it just comes down to some minutes being better than others. At the end of the day (once they are asleep in their beds), I love those kids more than anything else on the planet.