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i’m a misfit mom

i was looking for hermey’s version, “you can’t fire me, I QUIT. why… don’t i fit in.” but i couldn’t find it. or i didn’t look hard enough. either or, this song kind of embodies where i’m at right now, when it comes to figuring out where i fit in the scheme of “mom”.

you’re probably wondering why i would even bother myself with this. i wonder why i’m bothered with this.

i’m bothered because that’s the kind of person i am.

before i had dylan, i was always shy. i don’t like going to new places by myself, i’m afraid i’m going to go to the wrong place, or the right place at the wrong time. i’m worried people are going to look at me and know that i’m uncomfortable and then talk about it. i have some pretty severe social anxiety, and because of it, i have a ridiculously hard time making friends.

once you reach a certain age it’s harder to make friends anyway. everyone has their life and their comforts and they want to keep it that way. i know i do. but having moved to a small town well away from my already established but small group of friends, i’m having a hard time with the whole “fitting in” thing. on top of it, i can’t drive (yet) which means i’m not getting out and about as much as i could or should be.

i’m definitely one of those people who would rather spend time at home hanging out then get all the accoutrements of motherhood jammed into a small bag and drag that around with me and the screaming, never compliant in public toddler.

i also feel like i’m at a complete loss as to how to behave in social situations where others are parenting their own children (clearly, i get along better with animals in a petting zoo). i don’t know why i believe that these people around me are somehow inherently better at parenting than i am, but that’s the story. somehow they’re doing it a lot better than i am and they’re all judging me for it.

we are our own worst enemy.

i realized that i’m probably not alone here. i can’t be, right? i’m sure there are thousands of other women out there that are second guessing all their notions on mothering and motherhood, and who are in a daily battle with their personal nature because they want to be good mothers to their kids.

i’m acknowledging you guys, the ones who want to be perfect but aren’t sure if you’re being perfect. listen guys, you’re doing a great job. you don’t need a hundred thousand friends or a hundred thousand instagram likes / followers to prove it. i say this as much to remind you that you’re awesome, as i do to remind myself that i am awesome. if you get out of bed in the morning instead of sleeping in because you feel like it, you’re awesome. if you make breakfasts and lunches and dinners and snacks, you’re awesome. if you wash laundry and get down on your knees to play and contain your inevitable frustration when your kid gets paint/food/flour all over the place… you. are. awesome.

really, it is the little things.

we’re doing the best we can with what we have, and sometimes it takes a lot more work because this motherhood / parenting thing does not come easily or naturally to a lot of us. i thought it would come naturally to me, but here i am, talking to you about how hard it is, and how much worse i feel that i don’t feel like i fit into the group that society calls “mom”. i’m a misfit. i’m different. i’m a little strange and a lot awkward and i suffer from anxiety and, as of late, panic attacks. i have depression and normal fears and abnormal fears.

even now – RIGHT THIS MINUTE – i have this heavy weight on my chest, i’m nervous that i’ll post this and you won’t relate. that should be okay, you’re allowed to have your opinion. it shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, but it does. maybe you know someone who CAN relate. maybe you can relate but in a different capacity.

i may not be the kind of mom who races her kids from one practice to the other, hosts all the other moms and kids for a playdate, has a million friends on her list or even likes to leave the house every day. but i AM the kind of mom who will paint with her, play games (when i’m not exhausted), teach her how to make cookies or pancakes (for a few minutes, until the flour starts to fly and my OCD goes nuts), make her hats and scarves, build a dollhouse, and do everything in my capacity to make her happy, keep her healthy, nurture her, and help her grow into a thoughtful, kind, loving and wonderful human being.

taking a step back, i guess i wouldn’t really call myself or any of the rest of us “misfits.” i’m weird. i’m me! if you’re weird, let’s be friends. if you aren’t weird, let’s be friends. we don’t ever have to make plans to meet up for coffee or a play date, we can just meet here, where we can offer support and love and kindness and advice from the comfort of our pjs. no judgement.

  • Lise Fox

    I am proud of you my daughter…. words can never express how much and also how much I love you. You’re a great mom, raising a great grandddaughter. She loves you that’s all that matters…

    January 11, 2017 at 6:01 pm Reply

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