To The Mom Struggling To Hold Her Sh*t Together

To the Mom Struggling to Hold Her Shit Together,

I have something important to tell you, mama: I don’t see you.

Now, don’t stop reading just yet. Please hear me out. It’s true I don’t see you, but I know what you are going through.

I know that these days you are almost always exhausted and fueled by caffeine and anxiety.

I know that you try your best to be a good mother, partner, daughter, and friend, but all too often feel like you are failing at all of them.

I know that more than once a day you scream on the inside, “There’s only one of me!”

I know you feel deep mommy love, as well as deep mommy guilt, for not being the person you think you should be.

I know there are days when you feel like you want to run away, but then decide to just sit in your car in the grocery store parking lot a little longer then necessary just to be alone.

I know the weight of responsibility sometimes feels so heavy you can barely move.

I know your to-do list is full of things like: make dentist appointments, get teacher appreciation gifts, clean the bathrooms, attend parent-teacher conferences, do laundry, go food shopping, schedule playdates, “What’s for dinner?” and “Don’t forget to take a shower.”

I know you struggle with balancing these things while also raising your little humans, and it can all feel like too much for one person to manage.

I know you worry that you are not patient enough, present enough, fun enough, or even enough at all.

I know too often you feel overwhelmed, disorganized, and flawed.

I know all these things because I feel them too. I don’t see you, but I am you.

I don’t see you because you don’t let it show. Like me, you wear a brave mask. You smile to hide your stress, even on the bad days. You get up every day, put yourself together, and do what needs to be done. You are strong. You are Mom.

No, I do not see you struggling, mama. In fact, it is quite likely that the only one who sees what you view as your “weaknesses” is you.

However, I most definitely am you, and I think all of us moms are from time to time. The ebb and flow of motherhood is like that. We all have the same cracks in our “Super Mom” armor. We are only human, after all.

Please remember this the next time you feel like the only hot mess mom at the playground. It may not be obvious by looking around because we all wear our own masks, but you’re not the only one who feels like they’re dropping the ball in one way or another. It is okay. That is why we have each other. And wine. Or chocolate. You choose.

You got this, mama. Give yourself a break. Having our shit together all the time is overrated anyway.

Love,

Your Fellow Hot Mess Mom