When Supermom Is Out To Lunch

Today wasn’t necessarily a terrible day, but it definitely wasn’t a good one. In general, I feel supremely lucky to have the life I do. I really do—but, you know… it was just one of those blah days where I felt like a failure as a mom. I’m only human—and supermom was out to lunch (as she often is).

For starters, we’re on a new schedule. Kindergarten is kicking off, and I’m just not used to going full throttle at 6:00 am. My brain and body are still trying to figure out this new rhythm, and are currently quite lost.

Then there’s my two-year-old, who is in that stage where almost everything I do is wrong. Not just wrong, but catastrophically wrong. Set her cup in the wrong spot on the table? End of the world. Put her doll’s stroller seat on incorrectly? Meltdown. I know this is just part of normal toddler development, but geesh.

Related: 10 Tips to Help Parents Handle Toddler Temper Tantrums

Next, as I was on my way to pick up my kindergartener from his half-day, I had a bizarro encounter with a staff member. As I walked my bike up the hill just below the school with my toddler in tow, I saw a tall man standing at the top of the hill looking down at me. Mind you, there were no other kids in sight, or people for that matter, so it just felt weird.

In an unnecessarily confrontational tone, he told me it’s a closed campus. No friendly “Hi, are you a parent?”—just an assumption of the worst and an unkind tone. I get it—safety trumps all when it comes to the kids, and people can’t just be wandering around a school, but again, geesh. Do I really look that frumpy and questionable?

The rest of the day was mostly refereeing my kids as they bickered over random pieces of prized junk.

My brain was fuzzy all day long, and the afternoon sleepies hit me hard. The dishes had piled up, and there were a million projects and chores calling my name. But I did not have the energy for a single one in between the constant referee calls in what had become an epic battle between my children. I needed to get my kids out of the house, but I did not have the willpower to make it happen.

Objectively, I realize these are “first-world problems.” I have healthy kids, a safe home, and a life filled with love—and I don’t take any of that for granted. Even so, the small frustrations and struggles of motherhood can add up and make it difficult to see clearly while navigating and trying to keep up with the daily grind.

Despite these wrinkles of motherhood, here I am, showing up. Day after day. Night after night.

I’m here for the early mornings, the tantrums, the meltdowns, the messes, the potty accidents, the food prep, the sibling rivalry, the vexing run-ins, and all the coffee.

Showing up counts. It matters. It’s important. It’s imperfect. It’s love. And at the end of the day, that love is everything.

Forget the rest.

Easier said than done, but I’m trying to hold this sentiment close to my mama heart—especially on those days I feel like a failure as a mom or dealing with mom rage and mom overstimulation.

Being a mama is supremely hard and privileged work. I’m here for it.