I've got my cape on and I'm ready to.....oh wait, hold on....it's on backwards. There. Now I'm ready to tackle...crap. Is that a stain? I guess it needs to be washed. Let me lay it in one of fifteen piles of dirty clothes in my laundry room. Maybe I'll wash it later, after I do a load of baby clothes of course. Which reminds me, I need to sanitize Avery's pacifer, since I forgot to pick up paci wipes at the store.....where is that stupid pacifer? I thought I put it right here by my five empty water cups sitting on the nightstand....maybe it's here under the bed......so that's what happened to my other gray sock! Gosh. I really should vacuum under there. Do I remember where the vacuum is? I think it's in the laundry room. Geez, that reminds me! I have to wash baby clothes!
I knew I was going to be able to be "super mom." You know the type--the mom that always volunteers for everything, looking completely polished and put together while her baby sported an adorable outfit with a matching bib and hairbow? The one that bragged about her job, ability to make lasagna noodles from scratch, all while keeping a spotless house and documenting every single second of her child's life? That was going to be me. I would lay in bed at night and rub my big pregnant belly and smile, thinking of all the of the amazing things I would do as super mommy. The craft projects we'd create. The organizational tips I would implement. The super strict, but loving discipline I would enforce. The bedtime routine I would establish. The homemade dinners I would make. The clothes I would clean. The clean house I would manage. It was going to be amazing. People have babies all the time and they manage to make it work, right? And then I woke up. I look back at that pregnant me of 4 months ago and laugh my butt off. Super mommy? How about super messy? On a typical day off with my baby girl, I struggle to find time to run to the bathroom by myself before she screams to be entertained. Discipline has gone out the window, as I attend to her every whimper. My laundry room is source of fear for me now....my own personal version of hell. I walk in and the clothes practically taunt me--"A super mommy would have had us washed WEEKS ago. You're out of clean towels? You're a failure." My dishes are piled up in my sink. I no longer have a visible kitchen table top. My Halloween pumpkins are decorated, but didn't even make it out onto the porch. Clothes are everywhere, shoes are scattered, and my car looks like a homeless family has been living in it for months. Where are you super mommy? I look at myself and wonder how other people do it. How does my sister-in-law manage her 3 and 1 year old and watch Avery twice a week? How did my mother work a full time job with three kids under the age of 8--one with a heart defect and in need of extra attention? How did my Meemaw have SIX children in a row, while helping my Peepaw on the farm and always manage to have a homecooked lunch and dinner ready every day? How did my Granny also have SIX children, while following my Papaw around the country as a military family and get all six children readjusted and manage a home? What's my problem?? Why can't I handle an adorable, yet slighty needy, three month old and do all of those things that I set out to do? My blog is the ultimate testiment to my inability to multitask. I don't even remember the last time I was able to sit down and blog. I'm writing this after my sweet baby has gone to bed....the ONLY time of day I seem to be able to get anything done. Is this what I'm going to be reduced to? Washing clothes by the light of the moon and cleaning my room, while tiptoeing around the bassinet that holds my sleeping baby? If that's what I have to do, then so be it. I need a reality check. Repeat after me: my house is not clean and I'm okay with that. Repeat as needed. Next: it will probably be SEVERAL months, if not years, before you have time for the little projects and "super mommy"-ish things you had planned. This is okay. Keeping Avery fed, clean and occupied should be your number one priority now. I wanted to be that mom that was able to have a happy baby, a spotless house and dinner on the table every night. But I'm hanging up my cape for now. Because there certainly isn't anything wrong with a happy baby, a messy house and a Hot Pocket every now and then.