She was a bad role model. Perfectly clean house. Perfectly behaved kids. Perfectly satisfied spouse. Perfectly balanced life. I had to kill her. SuperMom (and her myth) had to go into the diaper genie where they belonged. Because no mom can live up to "perfect" and I was trying so hard it was driving me insane.
Perhaps, if you had read my post about Play ground or Pay cheque? The Great Stay-at-Home Debate you might think I have work/life issues. I do (geez, who doesn't?!). There was a time when I was on top of it all...then, I had a baby which tipped the scale (and I'm sure some of you could insert *and then I changed jobs*, *and then I divorced*, *and then I went back to school* - all of these are life-tipping).
Having a newborn is so deliciously wonderful. Don't get me wrong. But I forgot the life-tipping change. The lack of sleep. The fuzzy-brain due to lack of sleep. The loneliness. I became Zombie Mom....not SuperMom.
Last Saturday, I woke up with mastitis (breast infection - probably a blocked milk duct - anyone who's had it will be saying "ouch" as they read this). So while on antibiotics did I rest? Nope, I - the genius that I am - went ahead and made a sit down lunch for six, cleaned the house, made school lunches (and family dinners), nursed, changed diapers, did a skype interview on parenting (while breastfeeding the babe) and ran errands.
(SuperMom - your myth sucks!)
Coincidentally, that Friday I woke up with mastitis again (the other side - loverly huh?). Thank blog it was school pizza day because making lunch was the last thing on my mind (though I would have made it). I don't know if the 2nd mastitis presentation was because I wasn't resting - but I bet rest would have helped.
But SuperMoms don't rest do they?
I am finding it really hard to let go of control of my "regular SuperMom life" and well...lower the bar. I feel guilty to order in. I feel ashamed that our house looks like an atomic bomb hit. I feel so guilty when I snap at the big kids "Can't you find something to do?!" because I'm too tired to spend time with them.
We live in a house of half-done. Half-done laundry. Half-done errands. Half-done housework. And it's. All. My. Fault.
Any jury would understand SuperMom had to die right? She had it coming. She was driving me insane!
I realize that sometimes it's better to accept "half-done" and be happy than to strive for "perfect" and be miserable. MiserableMom is no hero.
So I'm stocking my freezer with ready to go meals. I'm cleaning the kitchen & bathrooms and closing the door on the other messes. I am cuddling with baby as I flake out watching American Idol with the big kids.
I'm decidedly going to live my half-life to its fullest.
Because superheroes only exist in comics and bad sit coms. Real life calls for real role models. And sane mothers.
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