Passionate About the Westchester County Area
and the Moms Who Live Here

We are all in this together

mess upThis blog post you are about to read is true, only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

The other night as I was putting my boys to bed, my husband yelled upstairs, “Linds, call Rosie Smith. Tell her Gilbert found her purse in ShopRite.” I chuckled as I picked up my phone to call my dear friend Rosie.

I explained the situation expecting a frantic yet relieved response, but I got the exact opposite. Calm as a clam she said, “Oh my god, I’m glad someone I know found it, I honestly didn’t even realize it was missing.” I laughed with her, as she jokingly said, “Maybe you can write about me in your next blog.”

I laughed with my girl Rosie, not because I found her situation humorous. I laughed because I could totally relate. I thought, “Wow maybe I’m not the only one who would their lose her head if it wasn’t attached to their body (and not even realize it was missing).

I know Rosie was far from serious when she suggested that she be a topic of my next blog, but she sparked an idea, and led to me share something I think about regularly.

This may sound weird, but hear me out. I find satisfaction in seeing other people (especially other moms) mess up. Not because I enjoy seeing other people fail, but because it’s a constant reminder not to be so hard on myself, we are indeed all human.

There are (many) times I sit here and say, “I can not be the only person this stuff happens to.” I say it when I’m cleaning up millions of tiny Styrofoam pellets that once filled a giant minion stuffed animal, but now covers every square inch of my sons 10 foot by 12 f00t bedroom.

mom failI say it when my child points at a man wearing an eye patch and yells, “Hey momma, it’s a pirate.” I say it when we are a half hour late for school, because the 25 pairs of socks my four years old has tried on “just don’t feel right.”

I’ve googled things like “my baby’s poop looks like there is tiny threads in it, does he have worms?” From this I learned it was from the banana he had eaten. How did I learn this? Because other mothers not only googled that very same thing, but even uploaded very helpful pictures for reference.

I’ve frantically called the pediatricians office because my son ate his own poop and threw up everywhere. After they told me he would be ok I said, “Please tell me I’m not the only one who has called because of this.” They assured me I was one of many.

I was recently at a 4-year-old birthday party. There was a wildlife rehabilitator there talking to the kids and showing them animals. She explained how she helps injured animals and keeps them safe. She asked the children if they had ever gotten a boo boo and had to go to the doctor or hospital. One little boy, whose mother happened to be sitting next to me, raised his hand and proudly announced, “Yes! I went to the hospital when I hurt my penis.”

While all the parents at the party, were in a fit of laughter, the boys mother turned to me and said, “It’s true he dropped the toilet seat on it.” She could instantly tell I was oddly excited to hear this, the very same thing happened to my son (minus the hospital trip). I thought for sure, he was the only 3-year-old to nearly loose his man parts to a toilet seat guillotine. Thanks to one little boy publicly oversharing his bizarre injury, two moms had found comfort, knowing we weren’t alone.

I’ve browsed those silly quote pages on social media, just so I can find confessions or statements made by other people, that I could have made myself. It could be the most ridiculous thing in the world, but seeing it, and knowing there is at least one more person out there that can relate, makes me feel a touch less crazy.

So many of us are ashamed of our mistakes, we reach for any excuse we can to defend why our “brain farts” occur. As a mother and a woman who is constantly screwing up, and dealing with crazy, I’m encouraging all of you to try and change the way you view the less then perfect parts of life.

Take your mom fails, your mistakes and embarrassing moments and share them with someone. Its so much easier to boast about the moments in life that make you proud, rightfully so. I believe its equally important to share the moments we are less proud of, for that moment could be exactly what someone needs to hear, exactly what some one needs to relate to.

A flower does not think of competing to the flower next to it, it just blooms. – Zen Shin 

What’s your biggest mom fail? I’m sure another mama will be able to relate!

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