January 29, 2013

Unititled Post

Being a mother is the hardest job I have ever done in my life.

The job description of a mother is one that changes constantly from second to second.

Sometimes I am the woman who gets up and soothes my daughter through a fussy night. Sometimes I am the purple haired, two headed tickle monster on the prowl for little girls to devour. Sometimes I am a nurse writing down medication dosages and times, washing thrown up on sheets or placing cool washrags on a feverish forehead. Sometimes, I am a cook, a maid, a comforter, a disciplinarian, a fashion consultant, a shoulder to cry on and arms to hug.

I am all of these things and more.

But sometimes I am tired; I am run down.

Sometimes I don't want to give it my all any more.

I'm not saying that being tired or sometimes frustrated alters how much we, as mothers, love our children, but really at the end of the day when we've played more roles than Kevin Bacon, we are tired.

Sometimes we need a break. Sometimes we need to whine because our kids have been whining all day. Sometimes we need arms to hold us and a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes we have bad days that even the purple haired two headed tickle monster can't fix.

And that's ok.

It is not written any place that becoming a mother means we also become super human.

Sometimes we need each other. We need other mother's to talk to, to comfort, to support and to lift up.

I think lately we've forgotten this a little. Mommy wars and what not raging around us. Telling each other that once you have children you become their sacrificial lamb and if you aren't willing to be just that you should not have children. One upping each other over birthday parties and crafting the ultimate Pinterest perfect project. We sit smugly in our paper houses and light matches while one of our own struggles.


I'm done with that. I'm done with comparing myself to others. I done with smiling demurely while someone tells me how I've got it all together.

I'm done pretending that I became superhuman and perfect when I became a mother.

Because I am not superhuman. I am a mother, a mother who is flawed, not perfect, prideful, scared of asking for help and oftentimes flat exhausted.

I am a mother, I need the support of other mothers and I want to support other mothers.

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