Say Goodbye to the Supermom
I’ll be honest with you. In my house, the beds are rarely made unless someone is coming to visit. Sometimes I yell. My closet is a disaster and I feel guilty that I work too much. My kids watch more TV than they should. And I simply cannot afford to go all organic right now.
There is a sticky shelf in my refrigerator that I keep hoping will evaporate on its own, and this morning I had to send my son off to camp with a PB&J made with frozen waffles because I forgot to buy bread. I’m not perfect. There, I said it.
Bye Bye Supermom
This whole supermom thing has become cliché, and frankly, I’m getting too old for it. It was a fascinating social experiment, watching the women’s movement evolve from “you can have it all” to “you need to do it all (and do it all perfectly)”. No, you can’t. I’m calling B.S. Show me a woman who can do it all, and I’ll show you a woman who has hired help (and something to prove). Supermom, as a subspecies, has outlived her usefulness. It is time for her to go. Perfection Doesn’t Exist
Here’s the thing: Perfection doesn’t exist. Perfectionism is purely a mental, alienating, and unnatural state. It causes judgment and makes people feel bad. How can that be “a good thing”? We kid ourselves (and do a disservice to our kids) by thinking anything will ever be perfect. Everyone struggles at some point in life. It is our duty as moms to make sure our kids know that, and are prepared for the hurdles life is bound to throw them. Supermom may have the best-dressed, most mild-mannered, educated children ever, but mine know how to make their lunch, dress a wound, and pick a lock. Who’s laughing now?
Picture Perfect
Just the other day, I was on a plane and saw Gwyneth Paltrow in this month’s Vogue. She’s striking a glamorous pose in her kitchen, preparing “easy!” locally grown, organic, vegan, after school snacks in an $865 Michael Kors crepe flounce skirt and 7-inch Louboutins. Her hair looks amazing, and there are a few toys tossed about (but not a kid to be found). Really Gwyneth? Is this how we’re going to play? I didn’t look that elegant at my wedding, dammit. Thanks for making me feel bad. Celebrating the Imperfect Mom To read more, go here.
