I have a little story to share. It is one about me, gaining some important perspective.
Earlier this week, I was having a busy day.
It was my first day of having my afterschool kids here and I had been up since 6 am with the kids. It was dinner time, 6pm to be exact. Wesley was cranky, the kids were wired and Winslow wasn't going to be coming home for another hour. I had spaghetti sauce smeared down my Walmart dress and my hair was greasy. I was hot, my skin was greasy and the baby wouldn't let me sit down to eat. Right then, the door bell rings.
The dog started barking, the kids got all excited, and I screamed out, "DON'T ANSWER THE DOOR!!!!!!" (forgetting that the window next to the front door was open).
We put the dog away, I went to the door, looking like a hot mess, with a cranky baby on my hip, and there she was, my beautifully fresh looking, hair blown out, makeup on, designer clothes wearing neighbour (who is super nice I might add). She wanted me to look at her petition (which I totally support!).
In that moment, the first words that I blurted out were, "Wow, you look amazing!". God what an embarrassing thing to say! And then, to make matters worse, I went on to apologize for my appearance. I also told her again, how great she looked (and in my head, kept telling myself to SHUT UP!!!!).
After our little chat about her cause, I closed the door and instantly felt down about myself. My clothes were ugly and I hadn't had my hair cut in months. I was tired, overwhelmed, and it was the witching hour. My neighbour couldn't have come by at a worse time, and I felt extremely vulnerable.
Why was I letting something like appearances become so important to me? Why was I so worried about what my neighbour might think of me? Why was my self worth so low? These are feelings I deal with quite often. They stem from anxiety and I have been doing my best to identify these feelings, and not let them take over my days.
After a few crazy texts to Sarah, and a good conversation with my dad, I was able to step back and see things more clearly. By the end of the day, I was ready to just curl up with a cup of tea and decompress.
In bed, with a cup of apple spice herbal tea, I decided to browse some of my favourite blogs, and there, in my feed, was a post so perfectly timed, it was spooky. It couldn't have been more appropriate for the kind of day I had.
Motherhood is hard. It makes us vulnerable and exposed, but that's okay. I'm slowly learning that if people see me having a bad day, or looking like shit, or that I look tired, or my kids are acting up, or whatever... that it is okay. I don'y need to be perfect, and no one expects it of me. So why should I expect it of myself?