Sometimes I prepare vibrant organic fruit smoothies for my little one, blending them with care; other times, he munches on Honey Nut Cheerios that are unfortunately stuck to the floor, waiting for a cleaning miracle.
Occasionally, I wake up before my son, shower, and dress in something other than sweatpants, managing to look somewhat presentable in case I venture outside; other days, I throw on elastic-waist pants, skip the shower for deodorant, and cancel any plans that involve stepping out of my front door.
There are moments when I get down on the floor to build block towers, read stories, and sing “The Itsy Bitsy Spider”; then there are times when I simply can’t muster the energy to entertain a baby for 10 long hours.
Some days, I dash upstairs the moment I hear him stirring from his nap; other times, I crave just a few more minutes of silence and let him wait it out while I sit at the kitchen table, doing absolutely nothing.
Sometimes, when my partner comes home from work, the dishwasher is empty, the floor has been vacuumed, and dinner is being prepped; other days, the sink and dishwasher are overflowing, the floor is littered with crushed Goldfish crackers, and I plead with him to order takeout, even though it’s not in the budget, just so I don’t have to cook another meal this week.
There are times when I put my phone down and fully focus on my son; then there are moments when I get sidetracked reading articles on how to be the perfect mom, completely ignoring him.
Sometimes, I put my son down for a nap and become surprisingly productive: blog posts written, dishes washed, laundry folded; other times, I haul him into bed with me, and we enjoy a wonderfully unproductive two-hour nap, waking up to a mountain of unfinished chores.
Occasionally, I feel utterly confident in my own version of motherhood, unaffected by what others are doing; other times, I find myself comparing my body to that of a slimmer mom in line at the grocery store or feeling envious of another mom’s luxurious family vacation to Jamaica that we can’t afford.
Sometimes, I feel incredibly fortunate to stay home with my son every day; yet other times, I long for someone to need me for something more significant than slicing his food into tiny pieces or retrieving a block stuck under the coffee table.
I am a mother of contradictions; in any given moment, I embody a different version of motherhood than I did just moments earlier. I am flawed, inconsistent, capable, and inept—like a canvas splashed with a million colors.
Yet, even in my moments of laziness or confusion, I am always a good mother. And so are you. Whether your child indulges in snacks with red dye #40 or you find a Facebook thread about Ryan Gosling far more engaging than your baby, even when you lose your temper after someone barges in on you for the tenth time today, you’re still doing great—you’re just not perfect.
But who gets it completely right all the time? Sometimes, we all do.
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Summary
Motherhood is a journey filled with contradictions and varying levels of productivity. Whether you’re whipping up healthy snacks or opting for less healthy choices, every mother has her moments of both pride and doubt. Embrace the chaos and remember that being a good mom doesn’t mean being perfect.
Keyphrase: motherhood contradictions
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