Hey, Mama–You Get to Be a Mess

It hit me as I surveyed the family room one night recently, standing smack in the center of the same three-foot radius where 75% of any given day revolves—the kitchen sink.

Wow, this place is a mess.

I willed my feet to walk over to the pile of tiny dolls, the basket of overturned plastic fruit, to search the ground for the renegade Legos scattered across the rug… but I didn’t actually end up moving. I couldn’t. As all days are lately, the day was long. I was tired.

So instead, I gave myself some grace, accepted the scene before me and thought to myself, “You get to be a mess.”

I like to think this phrase translates to many parts of motherhood—from the state of house, to the state of our appearance on any given day, to even our mental states. We are allowed to be a mess, because we have so many balls in the air at any given time. We are allowed to ask for help and not feel ashamed in taking it, and we are allowed to not care about how our outfit looks when we run out the door for school dropoff. And conversely, we are also allowed to care deeply about any of these things, because sometimes, even though they’re a little extra work, they give us a small amount of joy.

We moms have to give ourselves credit for the small victories in our days, because in this stage, that’s often all we can accomplish.

But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: The key to my sane parenting is low standards.

And we moms get to decide on what days we care about the “extra” stuff, and what days we don’t.

So if that means that some days I am completely makeup-free aand there are dishes piled in my sink at the end of the night, so be it. If it means that I slayed the day (and by “slay” I mean actually shower, maybe work out, and am no later than 10 minutes late to pick up or drop off the kids to school), then so be that, too. And I’m proud of myself on both days.

We moms have to give ourselves credit for the small victories in our days, because in this stage, that’s often all we can accomplish.

So I salute you, Mom with the Messy House, just as much as I salute the Immaculate Cleaner.

And you too, Glam Mom; you look gorgeous. Just as gorgeous as that mom over there with sweatpants and day-old mascara under her eyes.

And you. Whatever Mom you are today, allow me to be the first person to tell you that I salute you, too. You’re keeping it together, even when you feel like you’re not.

Keep on keepin’ on, mama. I see you, mess and all.

P.S. Even moms are born, and five things that are different after having kids.

Sonni Abatta runs this Orlando lifestyle and mom blog and is a mom of three. Want to chat or collaborate? Reach out here!

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