I am not Supermom!

A few times within the last couple weeks someone has said to me, “Wow, so you’re like… Supermom!” And every single time, it stopped me in my tracks. While it’s flattering to think that I hold some sort of super power that allows me to juggle orders in one hand while snapping onesies with the other, mostly I just feel… like a total fraud! I am no Supermom. I am the farthest thing from it. I do not have my shit together. (Sorry if that offends you beyond belief and you have to stop reading because I said “shit!” My new theme is being real and the real Emily is a little rough around the edges.) If anything, I’m looking around at all the other moms, wondering how they manage to get multiple people dressed and out of the house before noon. Wondering how they can play and play and play for hours without turning on Dora or Daniel or Doc McStuffins. Wondering how they fit grocery shopping and laundry and dishes in along with work and birthday parties and toddler swim lessons. Everyone looks like they have it more together than I do. So who are you calling Supermom?

Don’t get me wrong. I am proud of the choice I’ve made to leave the security of the classroom and run my dream business. And I feel beyond fortunate that I get to do it all from home so I can be with my wild little red head. I wouldn’t trade this life in for anything! (Even if I could go to work in a beautiful office where real adult-sized humans get to interact and drink coffee and then pee in private.)

But when I say I am running a business out of my home and making a living and caring for a toddler, please don’t mistake that for me saying I’m doing it all. I am far from doing “it all.” Working while parenting doesn’t make me a Supermom. It makes me really really tired!

Last week was rough, you guys. A combination of some bad luck, some bad timing, and some bad planning left me feeling frazzled, overwhelmed, behind on everything, running in a thousand directions, and falling very very short of Supermom. And the scary thing is–I’m looking at another crazy week ahead. I can see it, but I don’t know how to stop it. Because the truth is–while I may have some handy planning tips to share, and while yes they DO help me from losing my mind most of the time–I still struggle with the things we all struggle with. Fighting overwhelm, prioritizing, saying “no,” being present. I struggle to make time for myself, my health, and my marriage. I give everything I have to a little person and a growing business and there’s not much left of me at the end of the day. And that’s something I want to change, but I don’t know how. I know that I need some help so that I can be happier and healthier. Whether that’s in the form of an assistant or a housekeeper or a babysitter (or all three?) I don’t know. I do know that as scary as it is to admit that I don’t have it all together–it’s really not fair to anyone to pretend that I do.

I don’t want to be a Supermom. Well yes, I do. I want to be everything and do everything and still have time to laugh and play. But really, I don’t want the pressure of being super. I don’t want that kind of title. I don’t want to be admired, because people on pedestals aren’t usually offered a hand. I’m not saying I’m helpless and want to be pitied either. I just want–I just want to be friends. I want to be on the same field as every mom–the moms who run businesses and the moms who run households. I want for us to see that we’re all struggling and I want for us to help each other out a little. I want to push past the jealousy and the feelings of inadequacy and the guilt and the “How do you do it?” and just see each other as women. Women who are all fighting a great fight. Who are all trying to be the best version of ourselves and who are all failing pretty miserably behind the scenes.

So please, stop calling me Supermom. Stop calling ANYONE Supermom like they’re somehow doing more than you or doing it better. Stop thinking that anyone else has it all together while your life is falling apart. I think we’re all falling apart in some way or another. And really–all moms are super! No matter how we came to be moms or how we choose to parent, we are raising human beings! That alone is pretty damn super.