I wonder if yummy mummys cry when they’re alone at
night.
Horrible thought isn’t it?
Do you know what’s even worse?
I kind of hope they do.
I hope that sometimes they feel weak and scared and
overwhelmed by it all. It shouldn’t
matter and I actually think it’s pretty damn cruel to wish ill will on anyone,
but for my own sanity, when I see these wonderfully put together moms, I begin
to convince myself that at some point, when they’re sure no one is looking,
they have themselves a little melt down.
I know that makes me a horrible person but my brain cannot comprehend
how it is even possible to have everything in life fall together that
well.
To have your hair and makeup done, nails flawlessly
manicured, free from chips and stains from the latest craft activity or pasta
dinner. Clothes spotless and creaseless, like the laundry is always done and
they have plenty of items that haven’t been drooled, snotted, or spit-up on and
a body that looks good in all of them.
I’m not talking about the moms who look perfect but haven’t
spent an ounce of quality time with their children.
I’m talking about the ones who are happily pushing their
toddlers on the swing as they chat away to all their other mummy friends about
the latest amazing art project they created or the completely organic meal they
plan on making from scratch later. The
ones who find the time to keep the house clean while giving their child every ounce
of attention they deserve. These women seem so completely distant from my reality
that I have only two theories to explain it:
Option A: They’re
super women
I know a few mothers who fall
into this category. They are amazing. They
rarely have a bad day and when they do, they can easily find a silver
lining. Their children are thriving and
they are too. I will not fault them for
one second but I do envy them. I do not like the word envy (it is one of the seven
after all) but if I’m honest, I have to admit I wish I could live life like
they do – happy and completely fulfilled.
Option B: It’s an act
I know a few others like this
too. Frankly, I fell into this category for a while there in the beginning when
I was trying to convince myself everything was all fine and dandy. I was sure
that as long as I ticked the ‘tidy house,’ ‘play with child,’ ‘prepare meals,’ ‘exercise,’
‘teach child,’ boxes, that all would fall into place and I’d stop feeling so weird
and detached about things. However, while I might have been pulling all of
these things off on the outside, on the inside I was an absolute disaster, just
ticking my way closer and closer to complete and utter destruction.
When I first admitted to my health visitor how I’d been feeling
and postnatal depression was explained to me (the real symptoms, not the crazy extremes
we see on TV) I felt nothing but relief.
I finally started to give myself a break.
So here I am, at the end of a weird day. Not one of my worst but not one of my best
either. The beginning of the week threw
some serious triggers my way and I just barely managed to hold it together.
(Thanks once again to the amazing #ppdchat support!) Today my daughter has been a little more high
maintenance than usual. I struggled to
keep my cool at times and to not cry in front of her at others. When her bedtime came, I felt like a failure,
still having no idea what is wrong with her.
What if she is really ill and I’ve
missed the signs?
What if I didn’t give her enough
attention today and she just needed a bit more love her way?
I then took stock of
a mental to do list and realised I had to clean the shower. Yes really.
On a Friday night.
It needed it that badly.
I have neglected it that long.
It’s clean now and my daughter is sleeping but I had myself
a little cry and have cracked open a beer.
So that brings me back to my theory:
If I need that cry, and feel the need for a take out or a
cheeky beverage after a day like today, those yummy mummys must feel the strain
at some point too right?
Honestly I do hope those women fall in the supermom category
as it’s nice to think that sometimes, if everything falls together right, life
can be downright amazing.
However, I do hope if they have taken option B, that they
learn to cut themselves some slack. I hope these women can stop for a second,
don sweats and grab a bowl of ice cream or go for a nice long run, whatever
they want to do just for them, not for what they think the world wants to see.
I hate that sometimes I still feel the need to take Option B. I doubt anyone
would mistake me for a yummy mummy but in everywhere but on Twitter and this
blog, I try to keep moving like everything is just fine.
It isn’t.
I am a mom of a toddler and I have postnatal depression. Those two stack up to some really shitty times.
I had to let go of my perfectionist tendencies just so I’d
stop feeling like a complete failure each and every minute of each and every
day.
I cry when I need it.
I run when I want to not because I feel I need to.
I let the housekeeping slip.
I rely on my husband to pick up the slack.
I have learned that I shouldn’t feel guilty about this. (But sometimes I still do)
I have an illness and it takes a lot to get better. Without the illness, it still takes a hell of
a lot to be a parent.
If you know a supermom, be sure to tell her just how
wonderful you think she is. I bet she doesn’t
hear it very often so even she may have doubts at times.
For those of you who have taken Option B, be brave and tell
someone when you are feeling overwhelmed. I bet you are surprised by the response
you get.
If, like me, you feel like you’re on the outside constantly
looking in, you are not alone. We are not alone. There are thousands of us fighting this fight
and although it feels like everyone else has it all together, not all of us do.
I certainly don’t.
