I'm Being Vulnerable

I sent this pic to two of my friends yesterday on Snap chat. It had two captions, One was all pretty lettering and had hearts and said “It can wait Mama”. The Second was in classic text and said “Uh, I think I waited too long”. I did it to make them laugh and got the reaction I was looking for and one even admitted, this was me yesterday. Today I was talking to my best friend about a visit when the Atlantic Bubble opens, and said, ok, I’ll clean my house. I rethought my comment, because we’ve been friends since we were twelve. I told her, I’ll move the pile of laundry so you have some place to sit. I got laughter and hearts. I find these reactions liberating. On one hand, if I have a messy house I’m a bad mom for letting it get that way. On the other if I had a spotless house, I’m judged because do I really spend enough time with my kids? OR I would just completely go nuts because no, I can’t do it all. It’s a double edged sword, and it’s super hard to not feel judged by this, but honestly if covid weren’t restricting us, I don’t think my friends would judge the fact that my bar in my kitchen is covered in clutter, and there is ketchup smeared on my table while we’d drink a coffee, 

I think the online mom judgers have made us all terrified to not be perfect, and the reality is, none of us are. I am lucky, I have authentic friends who don’t judge me, even though I am jaded by moms who do, and secretly scared my friends are doing the same. 

I kind of idolize women who would be viewed as bad moms. Not the ones who are legit bad and neglect or hurt their kids (there is a special place in hell for them). The ones who are brutally honest about their experiences. Like how they have had really hard times where they feel like their failing (Kristina Kuzmic), how pregnancy destroyed their bodies (Ally Wong) or how they sometimes want their kids to go away (I censored there and Tovah Leigh). They’ve been judged by people on their high horses, but have given comfort to moms who read, or hear their stories and have sat, nodding because they know EXACTLY what they’re saying. 

I aspire to be that unapologetically honest, but it is super scary. I find parents (not just moms, because dad have their own stuff) are afraid to let things that aren’t prefect be seen, because if you’re not perfect, you feel like you’re failing. And honestly who wants to fail? ESPECIALLY the little people you brought into the world. BUT I think the false persona might be doing just that. I could get into the complexity of how this could cause anxiety in them to strive for perfection. But instead I will call it what it is, lying. Jake gets a time out when he lies. I want my kids to be honest, and I don’t expect them to be perfect. 

So in one authentic step, here it is, full disclosure. I’m sitting in my basement, on my couch. There are coffee cups, and tims cups on the table next to me, plural. Same can be said for the table on the other side, but it’s bigger so it has an empty timbits box and this morning’s empty bottle on it too. My other couch has a few bowls on the arm, waiting to go upstairs. It also has 2 pillows, one that’s for this couch, a colouring Jake did, and a pad of construction paper. On the floor in front of me is 2 baskets of folded laundry and a tote of Jakes old clothes I organized the other night for Brock. I still have 2 totes from Christmas sitting by Jake’s table, and the Easter tote is there now too. Jake’s plate from Breakfast is on his table, and he has a cup on the bookself. I have two bags of clothes for donation by my tv standm abd my tv stand has a coffee cup on it. My other bookshelf has one of Jake’s cups too, and a box of clothes Brock has outgrown to go to my friend for her little guy. Then there is Jake’s play area…I’m not that strong 

K, Luv Ya, Bye 

Nancy