in fear the women with perfectly coiffed hair, pressed khakis, cute kitten heeled shoes, humming i-Phones, spotless homes, and 'perfect' children, will hunt me down and discreetly dispose of me.
I've been doing a lot of talking lately, and the more I discuss the highs and lows of parenthood with my amazing friends, the more I am made aware of how horribly wrong America has it, and how I might be just the person to start a crusade to debunk the myth of The Supermom.
You can have it all!
A sparkling career!
A flawless marriage!
You can attend everything with ease... meetings, first moments in your perfect childrens' lives, date nights, athletic events, and maintain a well oiled household at the same time.
While you are at it, you can also make home cooked meals every day from the purely organic foods you pick up at the grocer and farm market.
Yes, you can have it all, with no help.....at the low low price of YOUR SANITY!
Sure, and in exchange for the blueprints on how to be a Supermom, I will tell you how to buy The Brooklyn Bridge.
Cryptozoologists need to stop looking for Bigfoot (because my husband is taking that job over) and Nessie and start looking for the elusive Supermom. The local paranormal society would make millions if they take on debunking and eliminating the hauntings by pseudo Supermoms.
The Supermom does not exist on her own.
The Supermom appears to have her crap together while accomplishing everything, without a drop of sweat on her brow; but in reality has more help than she lets on, and secretly hates herself for not living up to the Supermom standards.
Standards set by somebody who hates all mothers, or perhaps a pharmaceutical company looking to up their anti depressant/anti anxiety/ how the f*$# do I do it all without falling to pieces, happy pills.
I don't care . . .
What stage of parenthood you are in . . . pregnancy to get the heck out of my house
Whether you do it all alone or with a partner or husband
If you make peanuts or have a goose that lays golden eggs.
Whether you have 1 or 15 kids
If you have were born wanting to be a mother or were bound to win a Nobel Peace Prize before you were sidetracked by your glorious pregnancy
Nobody is Supermom. If they claim to be, they are either lying through their beautifully capped teeth, delusional, or have a well trained and discreet entourage of nannies assisting them.
Not every pregnancy is pretty, glowing and full of double rainbows and butterflies.
Not every delivery is scripted for a new episode of Supermom on television.
Not every new parent has a clue how to care for their new bundle of joy.
Not every mother can juggle a career and home without bumps in the road.
Not every stay at home mum can deal with the incessant needs of little people day in and day out, with a smile every minute of the day.
The list goes on and on...... there is NO Supermom. In case you have selective hearing, like the little person in my house, I will say it again, there is NO Supermom.
We all have flaws.
We all struggle.
Most of us will even have moments we wonder what possessed us to want children (hey, another job for the local paranormal society).
As much as I adore The Chicklet, and insanity help me, would like to have a sibling for her, there have been many days my husband has received the late afternoon text
'Bring home wine, or the child goes up on eBay'.
She's awfully cute, and I think I could get a good price for her. It's a good thing I've grown pretty attached to her, or I really might have done it.
The moral of the story for today, is that Supermom does not exist, and if anyone makes you feel you anything less than a wonderful mother when not living up to the unachievable standards of the Supermom, you should cover them in honey and introduce them to your local badger. Seriously.
So, I raise my glass of wine and salute my fellow parents, for all that you are, warts and all.
It's the toughest job out there with ridiculously long hours, and I commend all of you for hanging in there day after day. It's worth it . . . at least I feel it is. Even if we do count the minutes down to Wine O'Clock some days.
Signing off for now; but definitely more to come on the subject of raising the wild little people in our lives.
~ Signed, a Supermom, with a defective cape and superhero boots with holes in them.
So, I suppose I am just a Regularmom while I return this cheap piece of crap to the manufacturer, and head over to the local shoe repair shop.