A Better Mom Than Me
You are a better mom than me. I mean that– you (probably) are.
I work full-time, and my husband does too. I can’t tell you the last time I actually used my stove and we live out of laundry baskets.
My kids watch TV. Often. I don’t have a good reason why, other than they love it and it keeps them occupied so I can get things done.
I only buy my kids used clothing. Even shoes (I mean, I clean them, but shoes are expensive). Hand me downs are my favorite thing. Nothing is better than not wasting money on something that will fit for 3 months, max.
I exclusively breastfed for the first few months and then I decided I needed to use that time more efficiently, so we moved to formula… and truth be told, it’s generic.
I don’t buy organic produce. Or grass fed beef. Or free range eggs. Or hormone free milk. If I could afford it I would, but for now, just plain old food will have to do. I didn’t have any of that, and I turned out slightly neurotic, but mostly fine.
Again with the generic, I use disposable diapers. They are more convenient, and frankly, I can’t imagine the cleaning process associated with cloth diapering. Fear of poop is a thing. Google diagnosis: coprophobia.
My kids have both been in daycare since they were about 8 weeks old. I love and trust our daycare provider, she takes great care of my children, and by the time I was 8 weeks postpartum, I needed a break and actually wanted to go back to work.
I only post the pictures of my family that we get professionally taken, because I don’t want our everyday chaotic and messy life on view. The filtered, airbrushed, professionally posed version makes me look #blessed.
My kids have been on exactly one play date. I don’t find them fun, and when I am not at work, I don’t want to watch my kids, play with other kids.
My 2 year old drinks juice, regularly. I mix it with water, sometimes.
Even with all of my mom-faults though, my kids are loving and good.
When my son hears my daughter cry, he hugs her tightly until she stops.
Both of them are healthy and big, and strong for their age.
The minute my daughter hears a song, she starts dancing on her wobbly 10 month old legs.
Every time I’m leaving them, I get my kisses, but then they go happily into Mrs. Kathy’s arms. Or to grandma’s house. Or to the play room at our local YMCA. Heck, last week my son hugged the cashier at Target.
Thus far we have hit all of our developmental milestones, and learn new things every day.
So yes, even though there may be a million moms better than I, thankfully, my kids are unaware.
And in case you were worried mama– so are yours.
