Thursday, August 13, 2015

I'm Not a Good Mom

I'm not a good mom. Let's get that out of the way. Saying that gets all the pressure off, and believe me there is a TON of pressure. If I were to be judged on the bell curve of moms and wives I would say I fall in the middle-upper range. I don't give my kid junk to eat, I keep her safe and try and keep her happy. And somehow I ALWAYS feel like I am failing.

I feel like I am either failing at being a mom, a wife, or a housekeeper at all times. On most days I am mediocre at all three and have a bad attitude to boot. My poor freakin' saint of a husband works all day, comes home, straps the baby to his chest an proceeds to vacuum/do laundry/dishes etc. He is some sort of superhero and it makes me feel about two inches tall. Like: how come I couldn't have just done that?

Every day of my life with Lyla I begin with the grandest intentions of deep cleaning the bathrooms, or doing a full shop at Wholefoods and planning out delicious and healthy meals for the week ahead of time, or even engaging my child in homemade crafty educational games. Want to know how that usually turns out? haha not even close. I go to the gym most days because they have cheap babysitting and I love my enorphins. (Don't worry, I am also failing at having a flawless post-baby beach body because I love wine and carbs too much, so add that to another on my list of shortcomings). After the gym we play in her playroom...usually with the t.v. on (another fail) and I let her watch some shows while eating lunch. We play. We play some more. Then around 2pm she goes down for her nap in a fit of screams and protests and all my intentions of deep cleaning anything go out the window with the sight of my cozy bed and the promise of an episode of The Real Housewives on my DVR.

Inevitably she doesn't nap for as long as she should and I get her up, and nurse her and we start with the playing over again. Sometimes we will go out for an afternoon activity where I inevitably end up spending money (another fail) and then I pray for the time to pass quickly till bedtime. Then the mom guilt sets in that I want my baby to go to bed so I can have some peace. and the guilt over not accomplishing ANYTHING of value that day. and the guilt that I will need two (maybe three) glasses of wine to unwind and feel like myself again. Then I will cook dinner...every night I cook and that is by far my only and biggest contribution to the household on a daily basis.

After dinner my husband and I will crawl into bed at an unreasonably early hour and I will try and muster up the energy to enthusiastically have sex because, hey, my hubby is a dude and oh yea, did I mention he wants to get pregnant again ASAP?

I must fail at a thousand things a day, constantly leaving someone in the dust (my husband, the house, the dogs, the baby, myself) and feeling guilty about it all. I must be the least qualified housewife and mother on the planet and somehow my husband never complains and loves me anyway. He even tells me I am beautiful and sexy on a daily basis. He is a saint. and I am not a good mom, but then again...I don't think pinterest really prepared me for this reality. Somewhere in the sea of Montisorri activities for toddlers, and how to decorate a perfect playroom they forgot to mention how to juggle it all. How to keep a house clean, a baby happy and a husband satisfied all while looking and feeling great.

Some day I will figure it out and become a supermom...but not today. Because the baby is up and I've got to survive.