Do you ever meet a mom and instantly become envious? Everything about her gives you mom envy. The way she’s always on top of her game getting her kids to school on time and with healthy home lunches. The way her house is always clean and beautifully decorated like a page out of a magazine. The way she’s always dressed so nice and always put together even when you just randomly show up at her house. The way her kids are always dressed so nice and well behaved. Everything about her makes you envious and you want to be her. Yeah….I’m not THAT mom.
Mornings are not my thing. I hate them. There never has been, nor will there ever be a time when I’m on top of my game in the morning. I’m more of a don’t talk to me or look at me til I’ve had my coffee. I’m running around still half asleep looking for my own socks, my daughters shoes, brushing knots out of her half-dried hair, having my son start the car, and looking for the inhaler I just had 5 seconds ago. And lunches, don’t even get me started on the lunches. Y’all this year I tried, I really did. A few months after school started those awesome healthy pre-portioned lunches I packed turned into her packing her own lunch with whatever we had, which she loved to do. I’d check and make sure she took healthier stuff and always had a fruit and veggie. I’m not built to do the pre-portioned healthy lunches and be on top of my game, especially in the morning.
My house is rarely ever clean. I try, but it’s always a mess. We live here. We play here. There’s kids. It will never be clean. All my best cleaning efforts are thwarted by a husband that has 4 days off every 4 days, 2 kids that don’t know how to put their shit away, 2 rambunctious dogs, and the fact there’s always extra kids here, whether it’s kids I babysit or my kids friends. If you come to my house expect to see dirty dishes because someone just ate. Clutter because I’m not mentally prepared to go through the stuff from the kids backpacks yet. A mountain of laundry on the couch because ain’t nobody got time to fold all that. And dog hair, lots of dog hair because well we have dogs. And the decorating – I’m the least qualified to decorate a house. My style of decorating doesn’t even have a name. It’s like a throw some pictures up on the wall so people know we actually live here. There’s nothing fancy on our entryway table, no centerpieces anywhere, no signs on the walls, no flowers or throw pillows. It’s not a page out of a catalog unless that catalog is called ‘Hot Mess Mom Weekly.’
Dressed nice and put together? Only when I want to be. I have nice clothes, but I will always choose jeans, a Star Wars tee, and Converse. I’m most definitely the walking definition of a hot mess mom. No shame in that. When I want to be put together, I will be. Any other time I’m a walking, talking hot mess that makes people turn their heads. Is she sick? Is she on drugs? What happened to her? Nope, just didn’t have the energy to throw on a pound of makeup and eyebrows to appease the eyes of others. If you have the balls to randomly show up at my house, we’ll probably hide so you think no one’s home and watch you awkwardly stand there on our cameras. If you’re lucky enough, I’ll answer the door. Then you get what you get. I could be presentable or look like I’m about to die. You roll the dice when you show up.
Forget about my kids being well dressed. We buy them the nicest stuff and the best brands we can afford and a few months after school starts it’s stained, ripped, has holes, or no longer fits. How? How does it happen so fast? Their Nikes start falling apart like $20 Walmart shoes. My daughter loves leggings, which is great, but every pair has a knee blown out. No boots ever withstand her rough playing for more than a month of two before they look like they’ve been through a wood chipper. And my son, ugh I’ve given up on that struggle. We buy him nice pants, shirts, etc. The kid lives in basketball shorts and sweatpants. His shoes a week after school starts look like he’s owned them for years. Kids are rough on clothes, especially my kids. I’d love for them to be well dressed, but they’re also kids. They’re dirty, rough, play hard, and destroy clothes. Well dressed kids are overrated if they can’t be kids. Then there’s the issue of the well behaved kids. I’ve raised my kids to be well behaved, say please and thank you, no ma’am/sir, yes ma’am/sir, and show respect. I’m not an idiot though. I’m well aware they can be assholes when I’m not around. I’d like to think they aren’t though. So if I have well behaved kids or not, I can’t really answer that. Kids are different around different people.
I’m completely envious of the mom that has it all together. The mom that packs the healthy lunches for her kids. The mom that has well dressed kids that behave like angels. The mom that has the beautifully decorated house that looks like it came from a catalog. I always wanted to be that mom. I wanted nothing more than to be THAT mom. The envied mom of the playground or school. That’s not me. I’ll never be that mom. I will sit here in my imperfect momness with my imperfect mom ways and secretly hate you. Hate you for making myself and so many other moms resent not being you. Hate you for being so damn perfect. Kudos to you if you are the envied mom, but just know us imperfect moms roll our eyes at you. We’re jealous, I’m jealous. I just don’t have it in me. Keep being you and I’ll still show you all the love while rolling my eyes dreaming of someday being you.