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I'm not Supermom

As I sit here and work on some things for Attached Parenting this blog post strikes me. I look up from my computer and I can see Barbie stuff that didn’t get put away. There are dirty dishes in the sink, leftover from yesterday because we were out of the house all day today. There is a blanket on the floor…underneath my feet…and I haven’t picked it up yet (it’s keeping the soles of my feet warm…no, actually, I just don’t feel like exerting the effort to bend over and pick it up). The dog is laying on stuffed animals in the armchair next to me and there is a load of laundry that desperately needs to be turned over in the washer.

This is life with kids. This is where I am at right now.

I am not Supermom.

People tell me all the time that I am. They ask how I find the time to do all that I do? How did you have time to make these, or plan that? How do you work and help your in-laws and raise your own kids and tend to your home and volunteer? “You are Supermom.”

The answer is, no, no I’m not.

On any given day something is not right, something is a mess. Today it is my house. Actually, most days it’s my house. I am much more of an activity doer than a cleaner. Messes will always be made and they are hard to keep up with so I do my best but it is definitely where I’d label “room for improvement.”

I have a passion for helping others. I enjoy giving myself to others. I like to do things that make others feel good or happy. I love planning parties and special events. I love being involved in things; my husband calls them my “little projects”, and I always have at least 2 going on. So, volunteering comes easily to me and it makes me feel fulfilled. Doing for others in general makes me feel fulfilled.

I still get overwhelmed. I still get stressed out. Things that I want to do drive me crazy sometimes. And there is always something that I’m not being “super” at.

Some days I’m not super at housekeeping. Some days I’m not super at being a wife. Some days I’m not super at work. And yes, there are even some days when I’m not super at being a mom.

The society we live in today makes it easy to compare ourselves to one another. We look at a picture on Facebook or Instagram and we see the big smiles, the tidy house, the cute captions, and we think that they have it all figured out. They must have it all together, and look at me, surrounded by a mess and counting the minutes ‘til I can put the kids to bed. They are a supermom; me, I’m a failure.

What we need to remember is that behind all of these polished snapshots are moms, just like us, doing the best they can to get by. The picture we see on social media is not a representation of their life. It is a single moment in a 24 hour period. A single moment where it all seems perfect. And maybe it is perfect for that moment, or maybe it isn’t. Maybe it is just that, a polished picture taken to seem like all is right in their world.

We also need to remember that we all have single moments throughout our days when we would seem like “supermom”. Those moments when you are dancing with your baby in the kitchen. When you are snuggled up on the couch reading to your toddler. When the kids are asleep and you have the room cleaned up just the way you like it. We don’t always capture those moments on camera and share them to social media but we all have “supermom” moments.

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter though. We get nowhere by comparing ourselves to one another. Comparisons set us up for having unrealistic expectations of ourselves instead of loving where we are at in life. My reality is that I’m a work at home mom of 2 amazing girls. I have a loving and supportive husband and 5 crazy animals that leave hair all over my house. At any point in the day you will find a mess that needs to be cleaned up and a to-do list that is a mile long. I put too many things on my plate and I’m bad at time management, that’s my life and I wouldn’t change it if I could.

I am not supermom, I’m just doing the best that I can every day to live life to the fullest and have a happy family.

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