On this wild parenting journey, I'm all for us parents, and especially us moms, sticking together. I'm also all for staying in your own parenting lane and respecting that we all parent differently. However, there is one woman whose parenting I have to question. I've never met her, but my eleven-year-old son has a lot to say about her. I have a giant bone to pick with her. I usually find open letters kind of melodramatic, no offence to their writers, but I feel like I can't let this go any longer. So, here it goes.
Dear EveryoneElse's Mom,
We don't know each other. I'm not sure what you look like or if I've spotted you in the school drop off lane. Probably not, since I'm usually skating in just under the bell while you're always early. Or so I've heard. I've heard a lot about you, actually. My eleven-year old loves to sing your praises, and I've gotta say, EveryoneElse's mom, you're wreaking it for the rest of us.
I tell my son to empty the dishwasher and take the garbage out before playing with his friends online, and what does he tell me?
*Dramatic tween sigh. "EveryoneElse'sMom lets them play on the computer without doing chores. In fact EveryoneElse'sMom doesn't even make their kids do any chores at all."
Oh, and about the computer, according to A, you don't implement any screen time limits. Not only that, you let your kids stay up until 2 A.M. playing video games. Oh, but that's not all. A. tells me that EveryoneElse'sMom gives them a cell phone.
Listen, EveryoneElse's mom, this is your business, okay? I'm just really sick of hearing from my son how great you are, how you are so much less strict than myself, and how you don't have so many rules. You let your kids watch whatever they want on YouTube, you dole out limitless snacks, and you always say yes to playdates no matter how tired you are. You're the perfect mom, aren't you?
Apparently, your child, EveryoneElse, gets more allowance than my kids. You're call, EveryoneElse's mom. But, your making me look bad.
I wonder about you late at night when insomnia comes to call. Then I start comparing myself to you. I think to myself, EveryoneElse's mom keeps their house clean, works out everyday, and still has sufficient time to spend with their children. EveryoneElse's mom follows through with summer learning, weaving fun through lesson plans so her children hardly know they're working.
EveryoneElse's mom, you cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner from scratch seven days a week, don't you? You serve fruit and veggies with every meal, and your kids eat them. In fact, I bet your entire family eats the same meal. You have infinite patience. You never yell. You save all of your kids' school papers and keep them organized in a chronological filing system. You're always put together. The floor of your mini van is visible. You have a group of equally polished mom friends and you maintain a social life and self-care regimen without taking any time away from your children.
Look, EveryoneElse's Mom, the truth is I wish I could be more like you. I compare myself to you. I wonder how you do it. How you make it look so easy. I just wish sometimes you could be a little bit more like NooneElse's mom.
I've heard a lot about her, too. Apparently, NooneElse's mom makes them do so many chores around the house. NooneElse's mom nags them every day to clean their room. I mean, maybe if he'd just do it, she wouldn't have to keep reminding him to transfer his 87 cups from his dresser to the kitchen sink, or even better, the dishwasher. I feel you, sister.
NooneElse's mom is late frequently. Her house is messy. She makes her children read every day. Except on the days when she just can't have one more argument. NooneElse's mom serves too much mac and cheese. NooneElse's mom limits screen time. Except for the days when she's struggling with depression and can't even with her kids. On those days, she wallows in guilt while her kids slay zombies in Minecraft.
NoonElse's mom keeps a running list of parenting mistakes in her head. She can rattle them off for you, but she avoids focusing on her successes. Her kids have meltdowns in public. NooneElse's mom sweats her way through grocery shopping and still forgets several items. NooneElse's mom is late more often than she's on time. She forgets to return important papers to school. She makes her kids write thank you cards but then forgets to send them. NoneElse's mom lets her laundry pile up. Her house is well lived-in. She'd do anything for her kids, but sometimes she puts headphones in so she can escape. NooneElse's mom hides from her kids. NooneElse's mom gets weary of playing cars. NooneElse's mom has days when she yells too often. NooneElse's mom loses her patience. NooneElse's mom needs a break.
I mean, that's a lady I can relate to. Some days, I'm like you, EveryoneElse's mom. Some days I have make up on, I schedule appointments and keep them, and I spend endless hours engaged in creative play. Sometimes, like you, I let my kids have too much screen time.
Other days, I'm more like NononeElse's mom. But most days? Most days I'm somewhere in between. The point I've reached, EveryoneElse's mom, is that I'm going to stop comparing myself to you, even when my kids do it. I'm not EeryoneElse's mom, I'm their mom, and that's good enough.
Good Enough Mom
Tired of Facebook or as we like to call it, Fakebook? Where everyone looks great, their kids are perfect and they are the June Cleavers of the twenty-first century? If so, welcome to Killing June Cleaver where we dispel the myths of the perfect life. Join the shit-storm of our lives. Parental guidance suggested and a glass of wine will help. We leave no age untouched from toddlers to teens to aging parents and workaholic husbands.
Monday, June 22, 2020
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