What is wrong with us? Why can’t we just get it together some days (a lot of the days?)
This is the very question I asked my grandmother over lunch. Why do moms today appear to be completely stressed out? We have washing machines, dishwashers, we are able to work if we want to but somehow, we are a mess. Our hair is a mess, our house is a mess, and the kids are a mess. What is our deal? The women of my grandmother’s generation didn’t have the luxuries we have today. They often didn’t have a lot of help but they seemed to be able to run their households, get dressed (hair, make up, the works), all without T.V.’s for babysitters, mommy wars, emotional meltdowns in closets or escaping into Pinterest.
- They were focused: They didn’t have a million things pulling at them for their attention. Women in her era, typically stayed at home. Not always, but back then the SAHM, was just that. A Stay. At. Home. Mom. She wasn’t running a business, or working full time, her job was to take care of the house, her husband and the children, first and foremost. Her focus wasn’t pulled. She wasn’t trying to be a mom, a wife, an entrepreneur, a bible study teacher, a community activist, or any of the other hats that we all put on every single day. Of course she had extra-curricular activities, whether that would be a weekly bridge game, or hosting an event, but those things she did because she wanted to not because she had to.
- Their schedules were lighter: Good, bad or, ugly, we are busy! And not just us but our children are just as busy as we are, and that makes us even busier. Multiply that by the more children you have and no wonder our lives are so hectic. Sometimes, I feel like the only hour I can find to myself is in the wee or should I say waah (can you tell I’m sleep training?) hours of the night.
- They didn’t compare: There was no Pinterest, Facebook, or Instagram. I like seeing the best in others and that includes the best of their lives. However, I have to remind myself not to compare. My strengths and gifting’s are different than Ms. I Cook From Scratch Every-Single-Night., or Mrs. DIY, or even Miss I lost the baby weight before I even left the hospital- “Selfie (insert valley girl voice here).” We are all wonderful in different ways, and excel in different areas. Remember that! I am sure your friends admire something pretty great about you too.
- They ate better: Unless you are eating free-range organic, using chemical-free products, drinking only from glass, have had specially installed none PVC pipes, have thrown away your couch and bathe in essential oils, organic essential oils daily, your body is laced with chemicals from big companies. Our bodies are overloaded with pesticides, sulfites, parabens, heavy metals, and more. There is a lot of research that has shown that these chemicals can affect us emotionally, physically and neurologically, (I.e. stress, anxiety, insomnia, mental health problems.) Hmm… Food for thought.
- They were just like us and felt oppressed: Finally, stop comparing, even to the perfect 5o’s housewife. I have a journal filled with poems written by my grandmother on my father’s side that went into the perils of being a woman and a house wife in that same era. If everything was perfect then, women would not have fought so hard for equality. As many perfect wives and mothers there were, there were just as many women whom drank Manhattans at noon, took Quaaludes to fall asleep and struggled daily comparing themselves to Donna Reed.
So, perhaps I have allusions of grandeur. I still want to be that astronaut wife- the Stepford wife, not because I want to be perfect but because I want my children and my (someday) husband to have a perfect life. Am I overreaching? Yes. Do I fail daily? Double yes! But, where my failure resides, grace takes over and it is that grace that really makes life-life.
It is the messy that is beautiful and the banal that is special. Every day, I wake up and start again. I let go of yesterday, as I trip over the toys I never got a chance to put a way, ignore my ‘from scratch’ Pinterest board, as I make waffles from a mix and smile at my little darlings who wake up so happy to see me each and every day, and as I sip my coffee, staring out my finger smudged windows, I realize that this is in fact perfection. Give yourself a little grace, mamas. You are doing great!