Moms, I owe you an apology.
You, my friends and family members who became mothers before I did, who grappled and groaned with child-rearing before I could even imagine it, deserve my honesty. You have been the target of my ignorant and fantastically misguided conceit.
Here is my confession.
As I enjoyed my independent and self-serving youth, I assumed motherhood should be easy. The necessary skills and insight must come home from the hospital with Baby. Sure, it’s a transition, but you adjust to — and then master — the challenges.
Admittedly and regretfully, this flawed worldview made me judgy.
Every time I visited your child-disrupted home, I doubted the difficulty of maintaining order. You don’t have an extra five minutes to clean the crayon off the walls?
While my feet crunched on the Cheerio-littered floor of your car, I suspected the mess shouldn’t be so hard to contain. Perhaps the car should be a snack-free zone?
As I witnessed verbal battles with your partners arise from miscommunications and general lack of sleep, I underestimated the emotional impact such frustrations held. It’s not really that big a deal he forgot to go to the store, is it?
And why is everything so sticky?
In other words, I was unappreciative of the everyday chaos and disorder you masterfully direct.
I’m sorry.
On behalf of every other ill-informed, untested, and generally critical individual you’ve encountered in your years of motherhood, I apologize. I apologize for our disapproving glances at grocery store outbursts, mealtime meltdowns, holiday disasters, and subpar cleanliness. Even if it was just raised eyebrows or sidelong glances at unique parenting decisions, I fully admit my wrong.
I cannot adequately describe my regret if ever I made you feel wrong, imperfect, or less than.
Now I’m one of you. And I get it.
I know you’ll accept my apology. I know it because that’s the kind of women you are.
Instead of holding my ignorance against me – or even calling me on it – you welcomed me into the sisterhood of mothers, accepting me wholeheartedly when I deserved far less. And I have relied on your support and advice to make mommyhood manageable, if not easy.
Because as it turns out, the unproven and baseless belief in my mothering supremacy was completely inaccurate. Our house is a disaster, there’s no other word for it. My car is rife with crackers, cereal, and fossilized granola bars. I’m ready to go to DEFCON 5 when my husband even looks at me funny and I haven’t had enough sleep. Don’t get me started on our children’s sleep habits.
My younger self would disapprove mightily. Thank goodness for growth.
Happy early Mother’s Day to all of the brilliant, creative, and masterful moms in my life. You inspire me and make me want to be better. Happy Mother’s Day also to the honest, real, and imperfect mothers who teach me every day and accept me even at my worst.
And to those mothers still to come, no apology will be necessary.
