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My Friend is a Super Mom, and I’m… Not.

supermom

For years, I shied away from making “mommy friends”- the people you would never have met had you not both had a baby ripped from your nethers. Mommy friends aren’t easy to make. It’s intimidating. In a world full of judgment and high-horse sitting ass-clowns, walking up to a fellow parent and saying hello at times doesn’t seem worth the possibility that by talking to them, you’re automatically entering yourself in the Mom-lympics. I don’t play that game.

When you finally find a mom that you can REALLY relate to, and not just on the “we’ve both cleaned up seedy projectile poo” level, but on a real “I’d like you even if you didn’t have crotchfruit!” level, it’s a magical moment. A bond that should be held onto. Cherish that shit! You never know when you might find another, or if you will.

One of these rare unicorn mom-friends I have made could not be more different than me. What makes her even more awesome is that despite our differences, she still respects me as a mother and if she judges any of my choices, she would never say anything. She’s the kind of woman who I don’t think ever really judges anyone. Yes, she’s that awesome. She has more kids than me, but has more patience in her pinky than I do in my entire body. She is calm, and caring. She homeschools her kids  (they’re learning Latin) and they are all smart, and respectful, and ridiculously adorable. She is kind, and giving. She always looks adorable. She does all kinds of amazing crafts and takes her kids to playdates and is always out and about and all over the place.

She is exactly the kind of mom I’d love to hate for being SO damn perfect… but she’s not a “perfect parent”. She never acts like she is better than anyone else, even if she might be. You can’t hate her. You can’t even mildly dislike her.
She is the epitome of a super-mom. If you looked that shit up in the dictionary, I bet you’d find her picture.
As much as I’d love to barf over how amazing she is, instead, I admire her.
(And if she is reading this- hi! I promise I’m not about to poop on you with my words)

Even though she would never judge, I look at moms like her and I think (even if I don’t believe) “well, shit. I suck.”
I will never be a mom like her. I don’t have the patience to homeschool my turds. I would rip out my hair. I’m not crafty… I fear burning the house down or leaving disfiguring scars. I still have trouble getting my 6 year old to speak proper English. I ain’t teachin’ him Latin. I’m not into playdates because … well… children annoy me. I can’t feel bad about that because they both go to school and that’s all the socializing that is necessary if ya ask me.

I have friends who are sports moms. They’re here, there, and everywhere- sitting out in the elements for hours during games. Cheering. Being the chauffeur to and from games, carpooling, foam finger waving, the whole bit. My kids are interested in sports, they’re more interested in the arts (for now, anyway). I don’t even like sports, so I can’t complain, and sitting out in the elements watching people play these sports that I don’t like sounds like misery to me. I could never do that. They are super moms, and I will never be like them.

All of these wonderful women I admire for being so amazing, and then there’s me. The not-so super mom. My kids are healthy and happy and in the end, that’s what matters, but we all want to nurture our children. We want to give them the world, and raise them to appreciate it. We want them to strive for the best. To achieve their dreams. Most of us help them do these things by supporting them. Whether by homeschooling, playdates, sports, crafts… but what do I offer? Am I the crappiest mom of all my friends?

Trust me, I don’t need a shoulder to cry on. I’m not upset, and I’m not feeling bad about myself- but I always do have to wonder about these kinds of things (and I can see how this would be devastating for many women to feel like they are the crappiest parent out of all of their friends.) What exactly do I have to offer my children that makes their childhood special? Unique? What am I doing to support them if they aren’t in sports, or learning Latin, or going on educational trips outside of school?

It’s during these self deprecating moments that I think about how I’m always telling people- all kids are different. That’s what makes them special. They have different lives, different loves, different abilities. They’re being raised by different people who teach them different things. Knowing that– knowing that all kids are so different because they come from different homes– why would anyone ever expect any mom to be just like another? Why am I trying to compare myself to other moms? It’s apples and oranges.

Sometimes, all it takes to see yourself and your family in a different light, is taking a giant step back and looking at the big picture.

My kids go on adventures. We travel, ride roller coasters, laugh until our faces hurt, and experience amazing things together. We always come back with so many stories to tell- each one completely unique. Stories we’ll tell for the rest of our lives. That’s the kind of family we are. It’s different, but it’s us

Do I think I’m a super mom? No. But maybe my friends do, and that’s pretty damn super.

Posted on September 21, 2015 by Holdin' Holden 0 Comment
Holdin' Holden

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