staying out of the end of the spectrum

Morning chickadees!

Two for two.

I like the sound of that.

Today I would like to to discuss with you some interesting things that I have learned upon my entrance to virtual mothers’ groups.

Because I don’t have tons of friends with babies (my pals and I are basically raising T as a group project), I joined a bunch of these groups so I could lurk and see what other people do and get a sense for maybe what I should be doing.

Even though, to be honest, I’ve always just done what I wanted, in the end.

So after being immersed in a handful of these forums, I have noticed the following:

Mothers in these groups generally fall into one of two camps.

Camp #1: My life is perfect. I stay home and make crafts (or I work and seamlessly juggle it all), I love my perfect husband, and my baby is well behaved and eats only organic food and never watches television and also will be breastfed through puberty. These people are terribly frightening to me.

Camp #2: My life is in shambles. Having children is a cross between insanity and hell, and I am being real with you. My house is an absolute mess, I haven’t cooked in a decade, and my child chews on electrical cords. My kids watch sixteen hours of television a day and I can’t stand my husband BUT GODDAMMIT IT IS ALL WORTH IT. These people also frighten me, because I can’t believe things can really always be that bad.

But then, I only have the one baby.

Both of these camps scare the shit out of me, because I’m afraid they maybe are real, but deep down, I have to believe they are both lies.

I mean, as someone who’s only been tagged into this stage of life for a little over nine months, I know I’m unqualified in ways I don’t even know about yet, but it seems to me that my experience is as follows:

Theo is 100% the most interesting thing JW and I have ever done, despite the fact that billions of people have done this before us. Boo is funny and smart and looks just like his dad, which is definitely a plus. I don’t really have any steadfast parenting techniques, except I’d like to think I’ll try not to yell all the time and also always keep him fed, but I can’t commit to either of those on a 100% basis.

On occasion, even I forget snacks.

Also I love yelling.

Sometimes, I admit, when he’s teething or melting down because he can’t eat my iPhone, I look at him, and I think If it weren’t for you, tiny human, I could be at happy hour right now.

And then I pour myself a glass of wine, and I consider it a compromise.

Fake it ’til you make it, my friends.

And stay out of the absolutes, I implore you.

 

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