I will tell you the real, the raw and the uncut motherhood.
I signed up for a lot of classes when I was pregnant. They included breastfeeding, birth, hospital tour, yoga, etc but there were none that taught me to mother my child. None that told me how hard it will get and that it will entail just a few head explosions.
I had a really bad monday. Don’t take me wrong, I know mondays are bad for everyone. But I just had a worst one.
And then I saw this fabulous mother on Instagram who had posted a live video. She had a beautiful white lace top paired with a faded blue jeans and a blue eye shadow done to perfection with pink lipgloss. She had 2 babies playing in the background and a small baby in her arms. I watched her with so much astonishment in my eyes. Something indefinitely big shifted in me, something that felt like a mountain.
How do these moms keep it together? Is there really a thing called supermom? If there is, why am I not one?
I work hard. Really hard. But I can barely keep my clothes off the food stains that he eats. Let alone a white top. I sometimes don’t have enough time to brush my hair, let alone an eye shadow. I don’t even remember the last time I had put a nail paint, not even in my distant memory. And yet, yet my dear beautiful mamas, I have no clue what I do all day.
And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. We live in a social media era. Everything we do, eat, sleep, hang out, anything, is social media centered.
What people don’t put on Instagram are their worst mondays. What nobody clicks a picture in, are those stained clothes and unbrushed hair. What nobody sees behind the lens are the dishes that are piling up from last 4 days. Unemptied trash cans. Undone laundry. Poop on your hands and pee on your favorite dress. Layers of dust. I know, an unending list.
And then comes those articles and blog posts we read that picturize motherhood in an all white background, baby swaddling in white, and moms looking tired in white outfit, a foundation, lip gloss, eye make up and a perfectly created messy bun that looks more glam. Instagram stories on how moms brave untidy situations and captions that make you chuckle and go awwww.
And all of this has raised the standards of motherhood. Or atleast the appearance of it. We are measured in an unfair balance scale with the glorified momhood on one side and the unseen reality on the other.
I might as well add, do you think there is a thing called best mom or a super mom? YES and NO. Yes because you are the best in the eyes of this little chubby human and he is watching everything you do for him and he admires you. No because we all mommies are doing the best that we can and it’s not a race, not a competition, certainly not that we see on social media and thus, no awards and no titles. I can do many wrongs and yet I know I will be the best for him. And in the world of many perfect moms, I only want to be his Mom and do my best at it.
Let those standards not affect your judgement of the Mom you are.
We set harsh expectations from ourselves. We often forget how years will fly by and a whirl of dust will start settling on these memories that we are creating today with our little ones. Maybe Laura’s laundry is all done and folded and mine’s not. But probably she is eating a take out salad for dinner tonight and I am not. We are all trying our best in our shoes.
It’s true that my baby is the love of my life. I cannot imagine a day without him. I love him. Mommying this little human is the best thing that happened to me. I am so so so lucky to have him in my life, in my arms, in my heart.
And this is the reason, even if I am tired beyond my capacity, I still get up, roll up my sleeves and jump in with both my feet.
And on those days when I feel like I can sleep for the next 4-5 days, I wake up again in the morning with 4-5 hours of sleep and so very much willing to do it again.
Let me ask you this: What do you do when you are riding your waves but are so exhausted that you are desperately trying to reach out to the shore. Only the shore that appears so near is yet so far far away. I know this feeling.
Hard. Daunting. Maddening. Often looking back at you and laughing. The hard days right on your face.
This is motherhood. You brave the hard and gather all the strength from your heart.
Those of us doing it all alone, without a support system, it takes more than love. It takes a powerful woman who doesn’t let anything block her way. It takes patience. It takes determination. And a lot of hard work.
In the end, motherhood is really really beautiful. No doubt. I would do it all my life. But it doesn’t change the fact of how hard it gets sometimes. I trust the love my baby grows in my heart each day. And I believe in this miraculous love between both of us. This strong love that makes me do all of this. This love that is the protein and the carbs in my life right now. This love is my spine. This love.