It is hard to admit, but I haven’t been a fan of Mother’s Day the last few years. In all honesty, I actually dread Mother’s Day now. It never used to be like that. I used to look forward to Mother’s Day, especially since I became a mom in 2007 when Monkey was born. He was my pride and joy. My world and my heart. And then over the last few years it has turned into a day I dread and borderline hate. Why? Because of social media.
When Monkey was born, I had MySpace (haha) and that was it. It wasn’t a time where you were bombarded with pictures of everyone’s perfect lives and perfect families. You just were you and your family. Over the years we have become obsessed with social media and it is slowly killing us.
3 years ago, I let my own insecurities and doubts get the best of me that Mother’s Day ended with a screaming, I mean screaming match between me and my husband (who was my fiance at the time) and me throwing my engagement ring at him and him packing his bags up to leave. After me sobbing and begging him not to leave, he stayed and we worked through it. But it sucked, it was painful and it was the moment I realized I genuinely couldn’t live without him.
2 years ago around Mother’s Day is when I started my descent into Postpartum Depression and Postpartum Anxiety and my illnesses consumed the last 2 years of my life. It made me doubt my ability to be a good mom, I hated everything about myself and I never felt enough. I still don’t feel enough. I feel incapable and inadequate. It’s a constant struggle that I fight and it sucks.
So as today rolled around, I wanted it to go away. I did not want a day that is supposed to celebrate me as a mother because I don’t feel I am worth celebrating. I struggled at church, at my parents and at my in-laws to just smile through the day when inside, all I wanted to do was be invisible. But as I take a step back, I realize that I am truly blessed to be a mom, because not every woman is able to have that title. I have 3 beautiful, healthy children who, for some reason, think I am the best thing ever and I wish I could feel how they see me. I truly wish I could. No one wants to feel like they are never measuring up. Especially because the years go by so quickly.
I am a HUGE Fall Out Boy fan. I started listening to them back before anyone knew who they were. ‘Take This To Your Grave’ is still my favorite album from them and I have seen them more times than I can count on both hands. I have a beat up drum stick that I caught from their tour with Blink 182 and at one show, I almost got knocked over by their drummer who was running down the side street of the venue. Oh how I wish I hadn’t taken a step back so he could’ve knocked me over. In 2013 they released their ‘Save Rock and Roll’ album and there was one song that punched me in the gut, ‘Young Volcanoes’. The first time I heard it, I bawled like a baby and I couldn’t even explain why. I mean, uncontrollable sobbing. Like Kim Kardashian ugly cry. I googled the song and found an interview with Patrick Stump (lead singer) who explained that the song was about being a young boy and growing up into a man. And then it hit me. My Monkey man is growing up. He is now 10 but such an old soul. He’s my little boy but he is growing up into such a young man. And that song, oh how it tugs at my heart. So every time it comes on, I cry. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. But I cry because through music and FOB, I am reminded that my babies aren’t always going to be babies. They are going to grow up into young men and a young woman and if I keep focusing on how much of a failure I feel as a mom, I am going to blink and miss these important years.
Social media can be wonderful, but it can be horrible at the same time. There is always an article contradicting the next article. There is always a post that will tell you how what you are doing makes you a horrible parent and then another post about the same topic will be telling you how you are doing it all right. It’s so confusing. LIKE WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BE DOING?!?! Yeah….I have no idea.
I am not a crunchy mom, a tiger mom, a helicopter mom, a free-range mom or any other kind of mom. I’m just me who happens to be a mom. I am trying my damnedest every day to be the best mom I can be, even when I don’t know what that looks like or is 99% of the time. I just want my kids to be happy and healthy. Accepting, loving and tolerant of others that may be different. To love Jesus most of all. I know when they look at me, they see me for more than I see myself. They see past the dark circles and bags under my eyes, they see past the horrendous amount of stretch marks, they see past my flabby stomach that still makes me look like I am 4 months pregnant. They see their mom.
Mommas, I know it is so hard being a mom. It is a 24/7, 365 day job and it is exhausting. It has it’s ups and downs and all arounds. Our children makes us laugh, cry, scream and hide. But I know in my heart of hearts, I wouldn’t want it any other way. I wouldn’t trade this life for another. So as this day ends and I am emotionally and mentally drained from the constant, negative thoughts telling me how much of a failure I am as a mom, I chose to tell the thoughts to stop. I chose to go into each of my kids bedrooms and watch them briefly while they slept. To just stop for a moment and see their beauty, perfection and innocence. They are my pride and joy. They are my world and my heart. They are the little loves of my life and I am so, so thankful, God chose me to be their momma.