As women, we need permission to be real. Because until we get permission, we tend to walk around displaying a best version of ourselves. And then as soon as one person in the group decides to tear down her walls and share her insecurities, her fears, her imperfections… the rest of the group follows.
So I want to be the first to stand up and be real. To be transparent, to tell you about my imperfections and my insecurities and weaknesses. There are so many. And every time I share them, women come up to me and whisper, “Me too!”
Me too are some of the most comforting words in the English language, aren’t they?
So ladies, will you be real with me? I’ll share a story with you, and then you can share a story with me (or your Facebook friends, or your neighbor, or your Sunday School class or a coworker).
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Mr. Right and I are never EVER bringing our child to another restaurant. Ever. At least, not until she’s 20, and even then, only maybe. Twice in two weeks we took her to eat (both times for someone’s birthday, with a big group) and she refused to even sit in her high chair. Or on our laps. Or in a chair. And when I tried to make her, she rolled around on the floor and threw a giant tantrum.
It was so frustrating. And embarrassing. I felt like I was being judged, like people were analyzing my response, or simply assuming that we have a bad kid.
I feel like I’m good with discipline at home, where I can control her surroundings. Where I can put her in her usual time-out corner, or if necessary, give her a spanking without the watchful eyes of strangers. But in a busy restaurant it seems impossible. And I just want to avoid making a scene. And I’m tired of taking turns scarfing down my meal while Mr. Right walks around with her, only to trade and take my turn. It’s so stressful. I come home so tired. I just don’t want to anymore.
She also threw a GIANT tantrum at GAP last week. Granted, she was on the tail end of croup, but she was so bad and threw so many tantrums (SO MANY TANTRUMS) during our 20-minute visit that she even broke a display sign. I was so embarrassed. And of course there was a long line which gave her a LOT of time to throw her tantrum. And of course I had a coupon that expired that day, so I needed to stand in that long line.
So there it is… our real life. I’m not asking for discipline tips. In fact, please don’t leave them. We have regrouped and know that this is a marathon and not a sprint. That this is an age-appropriate issue And most of the time sweet Wrenn is the most delightful child, who loves people and has a big heart and wants to please. And I realize that these past two weeks she has been sick, which means she has contributed to extra tantrums from feeling so crummy.
I know that this is a phase and someday it will end. And in the meantime there are so many wonderful moments to cherish. SO MANY.
But I’m still tired. Being a mom is hard.
Friends… if you’re feeling brave, share something REAL going on with you in the comments below so that the rest of us can have a ME TOO moment.
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Thank you for sharing Bethe. I was just laying in bed last night thinking about motherhood and how it becomes just another outlet for tearing each other down with judgement when we should be lifting one another up. I applaud any mother who tries to share her reality rather than her desired image of domestic serenity. My latest struggle with Adelaide is when it is time to remove her from something she enjoys… Like when we came to visit you in October
Ha – Poor Adelaide, I don’t like it when someone takes away something I’m enjoying either! Building character is SO DANG HARD.
Scott and I say this every. single. time. we go out to eat…NEVER AGAIN! Sometimes it’s just one kid, but usually it’s both. And one feeds off the other. Sweet mercy! It’s tiring. I totally get it. I. Feel. Ya. Sister.
While we’re being real…I need a new job closer to home so that I’m not wasting 2 hours out of my day driving. Precious time that could be spent at home, with my boys! I see them briefly in the morning and then for maybe 2-2 1/2 hours at night before it’s time to go to bed. But during that time I’m also cooking dinner and taking care of who knows what. This is hard…this working mom thing!
Thanks for being real, my friend! You’re right… being a working mom is hard! Actually, being any kind of mom is hard! We should meet up for a wild and rowdy night at a food truck park or something where our kiddos can run wild and nobody will care.
I’ll post mine on my blog . Just need a minute to get it all out. Oh it’s real. Real real!!!
Hang in there mama. It IS a marathon. A really really long marathon.
Ha. Wise words from a mama who is more seasoned than I am!
http://munsons.blogspot.com/2015/02/getting-real.html
yes! thank you for posting your story! ( ps..I love your blog)
we have daughters around the same age..my Mollie is 18 months.
She has started this thing of if I eat a meal at a different time than her (which happens often…I’m awful at making sure I eat when she does) she NEEDS to sit in my lap so I go to the dining room table and she cries huge crocodile size tears because she is blocked by the gate and can’t have me. I sit there as long as I can stand the “you are so heartless..letting me stand here reaching for you crying my heart out while you sit alone and eat!!” when this happens she does not want her daddy..( he works nights and goes to night school) it usually happens on a hard mom day.
HA! Poor mama! Sometimes I find myself trying to hide my food or eat during naptime so I don’t have to share my food with Wrenn. Because anything I’m eating, SHE wants to eat…
Hang in there!