Thursday, May 6, 2010

Real Moms think I suck.


My children deserve better than me. What can I say? They drew the short stick in the great genetic lottery. The celebration of Me on Mother’s Day is a little ironic, and only serves to underscore my lackluster parenting skills. Now that my own mother is gone, I’m perfectly fine with skipping the festivities and moving on to Memorial Day and fun things like grilling burgers and shooting off fireworks. I don’t do well with these undeserved accolades.

I never really questioned my mothering abilities before my children started school. I had nothing to compare myself to other than the moms I saw at Wal-Mart who were filling their babies’ bottles with Pepsi and cleaning dropped pacifiers by sticking them in their own mouth and giving them a lick or two. Heck, I thought I was Mother of the Year. All of that changed once I was thrown into the world of PTO meetings, birthday parties, and school field trips. I became the Redneck Baby Mama. I became the mom on the receiving end of disparaging sideways glances from the Real Moms who deftly prepare chocolate-covered strawberries for their daughter’s tea party while organizing the committee for the school’s annual fall festival. Real Moms think I’m Peg Bundy and Roseanne all rolled up into one. They know a faker when they see one.

Real Moms cook from scratch using fresh ingredients, and do not lean on Betty Crocker and Chef Boyardee for inspiration at meal time. Real Moms can train for a marathon, prepare three dozen cookies for the church bake sale, and finish up the last minute details of the family vacation to Disney World, all while battling a killer migraine and a nasty case of bronchitis. Me? I burn toast and complain a lot. Real Moms manage to taxi their children to soccer games, piano lessons, and dance class, and still find time to have a clean house and attend the Junior Welfare League’s charity event to help feed the children of Haiti. Me? I see a mountain of laundry, shrug my shoulders, call for my husband to take it downstairs, and then look for a comfortable chair.

My already shaky façade of good mothering was unceremoniously demolished once I was allowed to rub shoulders with the Real Moms. They know my cupcakes for the class party came from Harris Teeter. They know we eat some kind of pasta with some kind of red sauce every week because it’s easy. They know I could never survive as the mom of a child on a traveling sports team because it requires personal sacrifice and talking to other human beings. (I’d like to stop right here and thank my wonderful son for preferring to write stories, draw pictures and engage in make-believe play in the backyard over kicking a soccer ball. Big Hug, Sweetie!) Real Moms might speak politely to me, but they will never let me in the loop. Never. Fakers like me are not allowed.

So, here’s to all the Real Moms out there who are making the world an easier place for total slackers like me. Happy Mother’s Day, and don’t worry. This Not-So-Super-Mom will always be in the background making you look good.

15 comments:

  1. You make me feel normal...can we be fakers together?

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  2. HAHAHA I feel so good now that you wrote this. I have been carrying a big chip on my shoulder for having the house look a bit messy, eating out more than in and getting inspiration from Betty Crocker for my kid. :) I love this post, Lynda!!
    HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

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  3. I think WE are the normal moms! The world is full of us fakers. :-)

    Happy Mother's Day!!

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  4. Yes. We are normal. The "together" moms are the fakers.

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  5. We're the real and normal moms! I believe that dirt don't hurt, that if it isn't bleeding or broken then shake it off and get back to playing, bribing is okay when used in moderation, my kids get soda when we go out to eat, we watch SpongeBob, I yell and sometimes curse, my 5 year old loves Inglorious Basterds and Kesha, and I could care less if they don't want to do a sport or activity. We just live and have fun and I try to stay sane with a 5 year old and twin 4 year olds, all boys. I think the ones that over schedule and are "perfect" are making up for insecurities and issues. I'll take my faker lifestyle over Super Moms anyday!

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  6. The only fakers are the most "perfect (at least they make themselves out to be)" ones, the ones where nothing falls apart in their world, the ones where they can juggle without a beat, the ones who would rather point fingers than lend a hand, and the ones who will be totally bored once their children have left.

    The regular-down-to-earth-moms-who-don't-play-supermom-are the real ones, the ones who aren't afraid of the odd mess-up, etc., the ones who know life is a continual growth process, the ones that know that it is "ok" to live and be themselves, the ones who inspire their children of what life is all about (while at the same time enjoy multitasking because they want to, not because they have to have some show going on), the ones that do have class because they aren't afraid of humor, and the ones that walk to their own drum (while still taking time for their own self-care and not feeling like a martyr), and the ones that encourage their children that being imperfect is not the end of the world.

    Of course the fakers don't mingle with the normal ones, because it is the normal moms who make the fakers, well look fake (and they can't be exposed now, can they? ;)

    So always give yourselves credit! You being yourself is as real as it gets. However, let's keep our own hearts in check so that we don't become fake.

    Here is to loving ourselves and our children, guilt free!

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  7. dirty kids! dirty house! not the one to have it all done perfect! shoot most of their presents can in a plastic bag! you go girl! we are all fakers! but my kids were happy!

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  8. I do taxi my spoiled kiddo to and from school, dance, and theater . . . but the house is NOT clean. By any stretch. I hate driving but I hate washing the bathroom floor even more, so it's an easy choice. :) Of course if I wasn't spending so much on dance crap I might be able to afford a maid LOL! ;)

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  9. o wow, this is exactly how i feel around the other mom's!i work nights, and "the fakers" treat me like the hung over loser mom that everyone's tolerating out of polite superiority and pity for my children whose mother has trash in the car. thank you

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  10. Hello...my name is Connie and I am a faker Mom....Rock on, girls!!

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  11. You know, I actually said this to some of my "mom friends" not to long ago... that I was confounded at how they all manage to run marathons, make intricate quilts, have showcase homes, and decorate fabulous cakes. Almost unilaterally, they all said that what you see on FB is the best parts of their lives. For everything they do well, there's something else that gives. The great mom who dedicates her life to her kids has grey hair and wears mom jeans. The fashionable mom with great hair has a filthy house. The mom with the beautiful home has one kid who doesn't play any sports. And so it goes... :) We're not so bad.

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  12. Hi, my name is Tami and I am a faker mom!!! Faker mom's UNITE!!!

    LOVE your blog..makes me feel as if I am not the only one!

    Thanks

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  14. real moms must drink a lot. i see laundry and unmade beds, but i see smiles and hear i love yous at bedtime. what matter is how we treat them. what matters is how we show them how we are real: that we cry and come back; that we fall down and get up; that we goof off and get busy. i had a friend who never let her children see her without make-up. she would wake at 5 to put her face on. she had all the holiday sweaters and all the fancy cars, massive showcase home and gave christmas parties you'd read about... now she is divorced. the façade shatters; it always does. what matters is what's underneath it. :) if you're happy, they're happy. nice post. :)

    I'M BACK... i need to fix what i said... i ended it with "now she is divorced" and that wasn't right. sometimes the best thing to do is get divorced. she got divorced because the façade was all she had. her man was unfaithful and abusing substances for 15 years before she got the nerve to do anything about it. she has the kids and he whines about his situation. it's still more complicated than i'm even letting on, but it's not my story to tell, so i'll stop there.

    anyway, rock on. as my friend whose mom died waaay too soon for her, "we don't remember the mess; we remember the love."

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  15. While I am not a mother myself, I am ridiculously grateful that my own mother is more like yourself than the "real moms" you described. Picture perfect is simply an illusion and being frantically pulled in multiple directions and not taking time for yourself is no way to live. Personally, I couldn't have asked for a better mother and I'm sure your own children feel the same way.

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