Mom Guilt drives this incessant need DEFEND MYSELF AGAINST THE SILENT VOICES OF CONDEMNATION within the Momville. MomBurb. Momtown. (insert parent too) Why do I tense up like a frozen ice cubes (wait, are ice cubes tense?) when I see another Mom at school and I AUTOMATICALLY assume she is a better multi-tasker and her cage-free-low-glycemic-chocolate-chip cookies would move Heaven and Earth straight into the abyss of the next PTO meeting. Where does this come from? Why all the comparing and contrasting and score keeping?
I honestly do not know. Maybe it was my child hood. Maybe it was the anorexia. Maybe it was the alcoholism. Maybe it was because my mom smoked and bottle fed. Maybe it was my Mom threw her pocketbooks out the window for no particular reason except it was a nice day. Maybe it was because I ate ant poison. Maybe it was because I jumped into a giant haystack and was 2 centimeters away from a pitchfork going into my back. Maybe it’s the internet. Maybe it’s Maybelline? Maybe it’s because WE ARE ALL SCARED THAT SOMETHING HORRIBLE IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO US BEFORE OUR CHILDREN ARE GROWN OR TO OUR CHILDREN and if we just listened to the advice from Food Babe on how to organic-up everything, they will be safe and secure FOREVER.
As a human, we are all drawing from our inner self and pulling out the the qualities that make us ENOUGH for OUR MOLD. (not the organic mold in your shower..)
When my kids are sick, or not adjusting well socially, or having a bad day or bad week, or I just ate an Arby’s meal so fast I almost passed out, or I went outside to scream and hit the trash can with a Nerf baseball bat, I need an “I understand”, from ‘Momrades’ not a thesis of criticism.
…. Maybe the Mom-defense comes from superimposed flawless pieces of knowledge, from superfluous parenting blogging experts, virally tossed air like dust, as they cascade into exaggerated dust bunnies of scolding pronouncements.
Moms and all parents, have incredibly tough jobs, the last thing ANY of us need is to feel like someone is clocking our every move in Momburbia. I get incredibly nervous when I meet a new Mom, especially if she is a working Mom, because I immediately feel like I have provide a graph of my Stay at Home Mom productivity.
I have been a chameleon most of my life, but little by little, I’m losing the need to morph into peoples’ perceptions of a “stay at home mom writer.” ..I want to follow my passions and dreams, but being a Chameleon to seek society’s approval, is what leads me down the rabbit hole of the isolating shrinking violet.
The inspiration for this blog came from the Mommitment Event. The goo of Mommitment is our ability to define on our own terms, what Mommitment means to US and how we treat other MOMS. We each get to choose to support each other; regardless of our parenting styles, and talk to each other kindly and openly,. It’s the ability to be ourselves, without, someone “killing our vibe” because it’s not what we are used too.
Moms should be enough, without the labels, judgment and volcanos of advice that seems to come crashing into your serenity zone, at every twist and turn.
We set impossible expectations for ourselves and others. We forget we are human in a world of photoshop and ‘ads’ telling us we need a product to be, look and feel better. We are told its not okay to feel or be less than fascinating at every aspect in our life. Yet, Our smallest triumphs over pretense & sham can be our biggest victories in life.