I guess the misconceptions that I'm either super woman or super lazy are the easiest way to picture what a household as large as ours looks like.
But the reality is my house is loud. It isn't perfect. Unsteady, amateur hands painted outside the lines during a couple of DIY home renovation projects. There's permanent marker on the sides of a number of surfaces. Stains on our stairway carpet. An upstairs bathroom that I'm sometimes afraid to enter because who knows what I'll find. Some days I want to burn the house down and start fresh. Others, I throw my hair up; I turn the music on full blast; and I get shit done.
You may see me share fifteen or more posts in one day. I share things that I relate to, things that frustrate me, things that make me laugh, things that make me proud, and things that I believe in. But what you don't often see is the hour breaks in between these posts. Those moments I'm switching over the eleventh load of laundry of the week; or picking up trash off of the floors and counters on my way to make food. You don't see the eyes that search me out as soon as they feel absolutely anything at all. Looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to read their minds and just know how to fix it. You also probably don't realize that some days I'm not in bed until midnight just for my morning to begin at 4:30.
You don't see me gathering up all of the dishes scattered throughout the house because apparently I'm the only one who can find the sink. You don't get front row seats to the UFC match that just broke out in the living room; nor can you help me as I'm frantically searching for the missing tube that belongs to the superglue lid in my hand. You can't hear the constant yells for "MOM!" that reverberate off of our walls. Or the barrage of nonsensical questions that make up the majority of our conversations. You don't see that at any given moment I can reach out and touch someone because my bubble is no longer my own. You don't hear my son declare he has to use the bathroom at the precise moment he sees me walk to it. Every time, without fail.
More importantly, you also aren't privy to the snuggles and the kisses; or the dance breaks and the concert-level solos that erupt randomly all the time. You can't hear the laughter and the "I love yous." You miss out on story times, running, giggling, and using our imaginations to play Super Mario Brothers on cold days. You don't see us all pitch in together to reset our home. Or the peace that settles over each child as they walk through the front door every day. Not caring if they are collapsing onto a couch covered in laundry, or if there are dishes piled on top of the counters. They are just glad to be home, among those whom they love the most.
You get a snapshot of our life. A narrative of which, for the most part, I control myself. You interpret it based on your own life experiences and prejudices and for that, all I ask of you is to think twice about the snippet someone gives you of their life. You don't know our day to day. You don't realize that I'm both excelling and miserably failing at being a parent and I'm better for it. Celebrating even the smallest accomplishments each day, while still prioritizing break times to recharge is a feat I have tried to hurtle for years. So in today's keyboard warrior society, I refuse to cave to judgements.
Hard days don't define me as a parent. Days I spend more time on Facebook and less time cleaning are days I need that recharge. I need that reminder that I'm not alone in the way that I feel. That even though I'm overwhelmed, and not handling my household or family management responsibilities the best, I'm still ok. It doesn't mean I don't love my life. It doesn't mean I'm neglecting my children or my home or my husband. It means absolutely nothing to anyone outside of these walls. So please keep your opinions to yourself.
If you want to know how someone runs a household that is larger than average smoothly, I'll tell you. We have NO idea. We just get up and do what has to be done. Every day, in one way or another, we put one foot in front of the other and go forward. Some days we can't see the progress we've made and some days we spend too much time dwelling over what we feel are our shortcomings. Instead of asking us "how we do it" or exclaiming that we are super parents, remind us that we are doing great. Remind us that you are here without judgement. Love us unconditionally because sometimes it takes every ounce of our sanity to keep our houses together; and more often than not we feel like we are failing. Recognize that sometimes that "oversharer" on Facebook is really just trying to refill their tank with the posts that feed their soul.
