“Mom, why are you crying?” asked my 13 year old.
I was true. I was crying. In fact, I was on a bit of a jag at that moment trying desperately to conceal it from my family.
His being confused was understandable, after all, it was Friday night (family night) and we were eating pizza and watching the comedy Moms Night Out.
And yet I was overwhelmed with emotion.
Mom’s Night Out was not the movie I was expecting when I selected it at Redbox. Oh it was funny, no doubt. My husband and I belly laughed at quite a few of the situations presented. Because, BEEN THERE.
But it was poignant. And insightful.
I don’t want to give away the plot of the movie but let’s just say that what starts as a simple night out on the town with girlfriends ends up in a jail cell with a search for a missing child.
The lead character is Allyson, a stressed out and overwhelmed mom who is just looking for and escape and who, at one point, has a total breakdown moment with a biker named Bones. (You’ll just have to see the movie to understand.) Their conversation (abbreviated below) is what hit me directly in the gut…
Allyson – I can’t. I just can’t get in front of it. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I give… I’m just, I’m just not enough.
Bones – Yall spend so much time beatin yourselves up; must be exhausting. Let me tell you something girl, I doubt the good Lord made a mistake giving your kiddos the momma he did. So you just be YOU. He’ll take care of the rest.
Because I often consider myself a failure at this parenting thing. I’m a working mom with a demanding job. I am not home with the kids as often as I should be. I am not involved in their school. My house is a colossal failure. My body is going to hell in a hand basket. I barely cook. We never seem to make it to church. I’m emotionally drained .
In short, I’m a mess. I suffer from a tremendous amount of guilt.
Being a mother is hard work. Its something none of us fully understood until we are actually raising and guiding another person. At times it can be overwhelming, and feels like everything rests on our shoulders.
I personally am guilty of comparing myself to other mothers. Especially the perfect ones. The ones that everyone tries to emulate who seem to juggle their kids, home, and husband with ease. The ones that never lose their tempers, never swear, who cook healthy, Pinterest-worthy meals every night and never seem to have a bad moment.
My crying jag was one of relief at the reminder that I am the perfect mom for my children even in my imperfection. And that God chose me for these boys and he will take care of us if I just do the best job that I can.
What a mind-blowing concept.
Have you ever compared yourself to the perfect mom? Why do you think we put that pressure on ourselves?