I am the perfect wife. I listen to my husband, I clean, cook, mend. I shop, do laundry, and even bake. *Ahem* Sorry, I'm trying not to cackle out loud here.
I listen to my husband. Then I tell him what I think. If I have a cake baked and something hits me wrong, the picture above is me smiling sweetly right before you are wearing the cake. I clean when I have time, I cook when I remember to thaw something out in time, I fix buttons, seams, and strings when I finally remember to, and I do laundry when we run out of clothes. I make endless trips to every store because there is inevitably something that either didn't make it onto the list OR I (perfect me) forgot to take the list to the store. But I can remember credit card numbers, phone numbers, and address numbers without really trying. It's just proof God has a sense of humor, too. I think he uses all the little irritating things to help us remember how blessed we are.
I am the perfect mother. I never lose my temper, I never get tired of playing, I love cleaning up endless messes, I don't mind when yogurt gets flung so far across the kitchen I have to clean the ceiling fan in the living room, and it doesn't bother me at all to be in public when my child has a total meltdown.
You believe me, right? I didn't think so. Wow, do I get tired sometimes. If I have to spend one more minute reading "Spot" books while doing potty chair duty I might scream. I really don't mind cleaning up after a curious little toddler most days, but every now and again (like every REAL mom I know) I just want him to be perfect. Just for an hour, or maybe just for him to take a nap. Please? Is a 2 hour nap really too much to ask for? And I totally keep my calm when he has nuclear reactor type meltdowns, but boy is that an exercise in patience. If I don't think I can handle a potential meltdown, we don't leave home. I am a mother. God made me a mother and gave me the arsenal I would need and He keeps tweaking it and me. I, too, am fearfully and wonderfully made, just like the sweet little blessing I call my son. This doesn't mean I am perfect, but God is, so I trust him to help me make the decisions I need to make and to help/forgive/protect me when I am less than perfect.
What I don't understand is how many stay/work at home/career moms always say things are great. All the time. Without fail. No matter what. Those major dark circles under your eyes and that screaming fit you just had would give an outside observer a different idea of what "great" means at your house.
The truth is NOT that Misery loves company. Moms (SAHM/WAHM/Career moms, all of us!!!!) are people. We are not perfect. We all get tried, tested, abused, neglected, ignored, run over, forgotten, tired, stressed, and lonely. There is nothing, I repeat, NOTHING wrong with wanting a sympathetic ear. There is nothing wrong with admitting that in your human past you had a similar experience. Share the wisdom of experience. Whether you have suggestions, stories or "what not to do" notes, be open and honest. Women have a bad enough reputation for using the word "fine" to mean everything but. Mothers are all in need of a great support system. We should be that for each other. Of all the other men and women in the world, only another mother can really "get" motherhood.
Like the lovely Madeleine Albright said, "There's a special place in hell for women who do not help other women." Who is your best supporter?
