Now that I’ve been a mom for almost ten years, I’ve finally figured out how to spot fellow mamas in the wild. You will know us by the circles under our eyes. Just kidding. Sorta.
Seriously though, on so many days, I feel like I have been sent to earth on a mission from God to help moms feel better about themselves.
Not so much in a precious and encouraging way (although I would love that) but more of an at-least-I’ve-got-it-together-better-than-that-woman kinda way. Each one of us is a hot mess in our own right. I just tend to be more messy and not at all hot.
So if you’re a stressed out mom and you’re looking to feel a bit better about yourself, here are a few ways I can help you out with that.
You are not alone if…
You’ve ever had to do the walk of shame from the very back of Target, carrying a 35-pound three-year-old having a total meltdown because he can’t have the $75 Thomas track set. Now your picture is up as a BOLO in the security office.
Your kids have ever come running up to you from the sandbox to show you the buried treasure they found. Unfortunately, it’s not really, really old Play-Doh. (*cough*cat poop*cough*)
Your two-year-old daughter has screamed her head off for 20 miles because it is totally unjust that she is not able to pee out of the open door of the minivan.
You’ve missed an appointment because your kids have played hide-and-seek with your car keys. And they are very, very good at hide-and-seek.
Your date nights have gone from candlelit dinners and romantic moonlit strolls to a turkey potpie with a beer and a Redbox. And you’re so grateful for them!
Sometimes jail seems like it might actually be a vacation. Well. The Martha Stewart kinda jail. Not that Scared Straight jail. Yikes.
You’ve worn yoga pants and running shoes to school drop-off at least three mornings this week but you haven’t stepped foot in a gym in eight months.
For your last birthday, all you really and truly wanted was to sleep past 8 am.
When your kids draw whiskers and stripes all over each other’s faces in semi-permanent marker, you’ve learned how to simultaneously put them in time out and take pictures.
You know that, even after enduring the pain of childbirth, stepping on a Lego can make you want to cuss like a sailor and cry like a baby.
You could happily survive on coffee and wine alone.
You know that no matter how tired, cranky, or stressed out you may be, you wouldn’t trade being their mom for anything in the whole world!
(But you sure wouldn’t turn down a little vacation. Just sayin’.)