The Instagram Curse12:42 PM
This morning has been one of those mornings. You don't see the photos of these mornings on Instagram with an ethereal filter. These mornings are fueled by Starbucks. These mornings are sticky, smelly, grumpy, whiney, loud, & exhausting. After finally getting the boys to sleep after, literally, hours of nursing back & forth, I walked into our room, where my husband was just emerging from his sleep (as I type this, it is currently 11:46am), I announced that I was "quitting motherhood."
For the past 3 hours, I have made breakfast, nursed, changed diapers, nursed, watched The Croods, nursed, watched Pocahontas (after successfully talking her out of Frozen), nursed, dressed Maddie in a princess dress, nursed, dressed her in a new shirt, finally peed, rocked Jett on the nursing pillow while simultaneously bouncing Jax in the bouncer on the floor with my foot. Did I mention that I nursed the boys? I'm actually nursing Jett while I type this. #multitasker
Just as Jett finally fell asleep (although, I have no idea how he can sleep when his sister is stomping through the house like Godzilla & yelling, "Hey, Mama!" every 15 seconds), Jax woke up. I rocked him back to sleep on the couch, and finally laid half down/half up & found a blog to read on my phone while Pocahontas crooned about painting colors of the wind (what the hell does that even mean!?).
I find myself going to Kelle Hampton's blog when I need a more fairy tale view of motherhood. If you follow her on social media at all, you know that her life seems perfect. It's not, but it appears that way. She wrote a post back in April & referred to a similar post, "I'm Done Making My Kid's Childhood Magical." The idea being that childhood is already magical & there is no need to go crazy with Pinterest parties, Pinterest crafts, & the token Instagram photos to prove what wonderful mothers we are. I, like Kelle, found myself wanting to defend the elaborate parties, invitations, and "isn't-motherhood-perfect" Instagrams. I am one of the worst offenders when it comes to this, but I justify it by saying that I want to create a magical day for my kid. And I truly do. I want to go all-out with birthdays. I want my kids to know that the day they were born was a hugely special day. However, this article was such a great reminder in the midst of infant twins, sore nipples, a hyper almost-4-year-old, a Lanolin-stained nursing tank, & day 3 of a messy bun, that while I think I suck as a mom, these kids (well, the twins eventually) will have a magical childhood simply because they are kids. Pinterest didn't suddenly make childhood, birthdays & summers fun - they just are because being a kid is fun. (Swapping out a twin to nurse the other twin).
This is the year of letting myself off the hook. Every time I have an "I'm-failing-as-a-mom" moment, I am forcing myself to say "you are a great mom." I'm not a great mom because of the elaborate parties I put together. I'm not a great mom because of the photo books I make for the kids. I'm a great mom because I take care of them everyday. I wipe boogers, I wipe butts, I wipe foreheads. So, maybe I have moments where I could have done better. We all have those. But dammit, I'm a great mom. And you know what I'm going to do right now? Put deodorant on, finally, and eat some fattening Del Taco because eating a salad doesn't sound like fun right now. And that's ok. We'll eat our balanced meal another day.
What does your house look like this morning (err afternoon)? Can you top mine? Send me your pics. Let's have a contest to see who has the nastiest-looking house. If it's littered with kid things, you're doing it right. Magical childhoods are messy.