She posted today a post that completely sums up how I feel about being a mother and life, so I thought I would share parts of it with you all. You can find the post in its entirety HERE.
"I write and talk about the noise and the exhaustion and the laundry and the many (many, many) ways that I suck and all of the ways that my life is a hectic mess. Those things are all true, and I don’t regret writing them because it will be good to look back later and remember this time and how silly and full and exhausting it was.
But here is the secret truth that I don’t mention very often:
my life is close enough to perfect that calling it perfect would be accurate.
I don’t talk enough about the good stuff for several reasons, all of which are dumb.
1. Having a perfect life makes me feel guilty.
Because even though we have paralyzing debt and my husband has to work odd hours at a job that uses only a tiny amount of his giant brain, the fact is that compared to most of humanity over most of history up until this point, we live a lifestyle that would classify us as kings. We have a safe, warm, expansive 975 square foot home. One of our biggest problems is owning too much stuff, our kids have too many clothes and books and toys. We have too many choices of where and what to eat. We have a computer. We aren’t required by law to send our children away to boarding school at age seven. We aren’t likely to be killed for our nonstandard beliefs. We don’t have to die from simple things if we don’t want to.
It’s survivor’s guilt really. I didn’t do anything special to be born in this place and time. The odds against having a fancy life like mine are sickening.
But focusing on the sucky stuff out of guilt is self absorbed, contrived and condescending. It helps no one for me to pretend that I am less rich and powerful than I am.
2. I am trying to make a social accomodation.
Is it culturally specific to the US, this thing of never being satisfied so we must always climb upward? Or is it a leftover from the feminist movement? It seems rude and annoying for a mother to be perfectly happy, especially when the kids are little.
There are plenty of blogs out there about why motherhood stinks; it’s not heresy to admit that anymore. So my heretical statement is: I freaking adore this time of my life with my whole dorky heart. That doesn’t mean I’m a perfect mom who spends every minute sewing costumes and baking cookies, and my kids and house aren’t anything like perfect but really for the most part? We are healthy and pretty damned happy.
I don’t want people who don’t adore this time of their own lives to think I am judging them because I’m not. But it’s also lame of me to groan about my life just because that’s an easy way to fit into a conversation.
Like if I notice and speak out loud about how great everything is, the universe will somehow realize that things are out of balance and will do something mean! Because I have the logic skills of a second grader!"
It just all really resonated with me.
I feel so incredibly blessed, and maybe I don't say it enough....but I am!