I’m a mom. A mom with real problems. I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. And I suspect you aren’t either. If there was an award for real moms like us, surely you or I would win.
Here’s what makes me real and why I could totally be called the Real Mom of the Year. Yep, confession time:
- My life isn’t perfect. One of my triplets died. That’s about as real as you can get. Some days, I don’t even want to deal with life. Grief is like that. Some days, I don’t want to shower, or get out of bed and start the day. But I do.
- That’s right. Some days I don’t shower. Or get out of my pajamas. Although, I do brush my teeth. There’s that, right? It can be easy to feel sorry for myself because with two preemies, we don’t get out much due to having to limit their exposure. But I won’t.
- I don’t cook dinners. Or go grocery shopping. That’s my husband’s job. I loathe cooking. I like to bake though.
- I can be selfish. Yep. There, I said it. My husband always seems to get the short end of the stick in our marriage (in my mind anyways – he swears it’s not true). But, not my kids. They always come first.
- I don’t work, but I do. I’m now a stay-at-home-mom, but I don’t know how to not work. So I find stuff to do that’s not baby or house or mom related and try to find little bits of time to do it. Sometimes, this means I ignore my babies. Well, not ignore them, but maybe wait just 5 more minutes to go in and get them when they’ve waken up from a nap. That’s 5 minutes I can get something done. Okay, maybe I am a bit selfish when it comes to my kids too…
- My daughter is easier to feed and just happily drinks her bottle. Great time to catch up on email, Facebook, etc. Wait, I’m supposed to be bonding with her while she eats? Oops. (Okay, so it’s only 50% of the time, but still, #momfail that I don’t give her 100% of my time all the time.)
- I sometimes think of how hard it would be to still have Carter with us. The two survivors are quite a lot to handle, and while I love them, there is a lot of therapy, doctor’s appointments, etc. due to them being so premature. I feel both relief and intense guilt when I think these things.
- I blame myself for losing Carter. My body failed my babies – who came at 28 weeks – and ultimately, failed Carter because he only lived 49 days. It took a long time to get over that.
You see, I’m real. As real as it gets. And, ladies, let me tell you something. It’s perfectly okay to be real. Real moms make mistakes. Real moms fail. Real moms lose it; break down; hide in the bathroom and cry. Real moms aren’t always put together, on top of things, or the queen of their social circles. But, one thing I’ll say for real moms – we love our kids and we’d do anything for them.
What’s your real mom moment? Or, as I like to call it, your #momfail moment?