Dear other mom,
I see you everywhere. At dance class on Saturday morning, you arrive with your freshly painted manicure and pedicure. Your daughter, poised and sporting the same hairdo, smiles at me in a similar fashion, while you help her with her ballet shoes.
Later in the week, our paths cross at Taekwondo, where your son adorns the latest uniform and weapons. It’s all I can do to merely get both children to their classes on time.
I can’t seem to get away from you. Mindless Facebook scrolling shows photos of your regular date nights with your dashingly handsome husband, hangouts with your tribe and other #favorites. I get exhausted thinking about how busy you must be, being everywhere and documenting it for all to see.
Who can forget your dream job, one that allows you ample time to spend with your family and feeds your love of traveling and making a difference? And your brilliant, perfect smile, that is plastered on your face 24/7.
We’re All Just Doing Our Best
Dear other mom, I’m calling a truce. At the very least, I’m calling your bluff. You’re not real. Sometimes, the idea of you gets lodged in my mind, this unattainable standard, and I fall short. Every time. Then I remember the truth: you’re doing the very best you can, just as I am.
Occasionally, you, too, struggle with feelings of loneliness and insecurity. You wonder if you’re getting this whole thing right. You hope to God the little feet following closely behind don’t emulate your every move, word and decision.
All those happy pictures you shared of your most recent cruise to the Bahamas? No one saw your youngest when she ran a high fever, and puked her way through one of the excursions all over your new wrap. Those snapshots of you making all your baby’s food from scratch and adhering to a strict, organic diet? Yeah, I’m fairly certain I saw you at the McDonald’s drive-thru the other evening. I’m onto you…
Let’s make a deal as we enter 2018, okay? I’m going to assume the best of you, and hope you will do the same for me. When you see me rush through an extra-curricular activity door with my pajama pants on, messy top knot, and toddler on my hip, just smile. I will sincerely return the gesture. Who knows? Maybe we’re destined to be friends.
An Average Mom Who is the Absolute Best Mom for Her Children