Honestly I don’t know how those women do it. You know the ones I’m talking about– they blog about making blueberry muffins from scratch while their handful of children work independently on home school assignments. They grow their own veggies and herbs, and welcome their husband home each night with fresh make-up on and a delicious home-cooked meal in the oven. They’re sexy, and wise, and creative, and cool. They never raise their voices at their children, and their husbands feel like the most cherished man in the world. They make money from ads on their blogs from awesome companies, and they are writing a book in their free time…
Oh wait. No one’s really like all that, you say?
Funny, ’cause somehow that’s exactly how I expect ME to be. And for some odd reason I’ve tricked my mind into thinking all those other women out there are doing it. And doing it without much effort.
Let me tell you something about me:
- I’m 22 weeks pregnant and I drink Starbucks and Pepsi whenever I can. I have to.
- I snuggle and read bedtime stories to my children like the perfect mother, but will yell in a heartbeat when they get out of bed asking for a (insert bedtime request here). It’s like I lose all patience after magical story-time ends.
- I like cooking boxed macaroni and cheese for my kids when it’s just us for lunch. And I like eating it too. I have never looked at the sodium per serving, and probably never will.
- I’m frightened about having my third child because I don’t feel like a good enough mom. I am not sure how everyone will cross the street when there are three times as many of them as there are of me. And I will soon be lacking a 1-to-1 ratio on arms to children.
- Sometimes (like now) I sit in the middle of a trashed living room and instead of picking up the dirty laundry, pillow forts, sippy cups, and toys, I sit in the middle of it all to check Twitter and Facebook because I can. And selfishly, I want to.
I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this. Maybe I just needed to get it off my chest. I’m not the perfect woman, and I don’t think I mind all that much.