Super Mom

 

There she stands picture perfect.  Her clothes are immaculate.  Her hair styled in the latest fashion.  Her nails show nary a chip or tear. Her make-up is most flattering. Her children are angels in small bodies.  Her home, a replica of the latest layout from Better Homes and Gardens. Meal time exhibits only the most nutritious foods in a most appealing presentation. She plays with her children and entertains them perfectly.  A breeze gently lifts her cape and it floats elegantly behind her.  She seems to be a super hero.

There she stands, in pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt from high school. Her hair is pulled back in a simple ponytail.  Her nails haven't seen a manicure or nail polish in years.  Her make-up, a bit of concealer to cover the dark circles under her eyes and a slick of lip balm to hide her dry lips.  Her children are children. They are precious and adorable.  They are maniacs and monsters. Her home resembles life. A trail of toys wind their way from room to room.  The laundry is piled thigh high in front of the washer. And every corner in the house is missing drywall.  Her menu plan runs the gamut from boxed macaroni and cheese to roast herb chicken. The wind forcefully lifts her cape and it flaps furiously behind her as she faces the reality of life.  She is the super hero.

Do you compare yourself to other mom’s around you? Do you see their lives as perfect and yours as a mess?

I fall into this trap often. 

I see someone whose house looks picture perfect.  Envy.  I read how someone is feeding their family organic and wholesome meals. I’m failing.  I watch another families perfectly behaved children. Guilt.  I see beautiful mom’s in the latest fashions, perfectly styled hair and manicured nails.  I wish.  I see others buying the latest and greatest. I want.

After a time of feeling miserable, I climb out of the pit of my own making and take a look at who I am.

I am not these people.

I live in a house with furniture that is well used. My house often has toys scattered from stem to stern.  Laundry is never fully accomplished. And every corner has been a back stop to racing trucks and whipped by gun barrels as my boys race through the house. I am usually wearing a pair of comfy jeans and T-shirt.  My hair is pulled back and make-up is at a minimum, if any at all. My children can be angles and monsters. Sometimes I play with children, sometimes I don’t. I sometimes feed my family boxed macaroni-n-cheese and hot dogs(gasp). I’m laid back and live a simple life.

However, just because this is who I am doesn’t mean I live in complacency.  I have my goals. There are things I wish to change. There are also pieces of my life that I believe are just fine the way they are. I just need to remember who I am and not beat myself up when I feel so ordinary and lacking.

I am who I am with just a little tweaking added in for good measure!