Being Super Mom Has a Cost

I have a lot of little kids and I’m still struggling with figuring out my own boundaries and limitations. I feel like this has been the case for roughly the last decade of my life. While that has been frustrating at times, here’s the nice thing about having a LOT of little kids– I’ve had lots of opportunities to see the same dynamics play out over and over again. Namely, my own desire to appear totally competent at all times, even when surrounded by the bodily fluids of little people who are crying out for my attention while slightly bigger little people are asking for homework help and the dog is eating someone’s beloved cheese stick.

There was a time when I didn’t see how my own ego was driving the process of trying to do it all and not accept help. There was a time when I thought I was just doing what all moms do and all moms must be this frustrated. Then there was the day a foster baby was placed in our home and that SAME WEEKEND I was making a meal for a friend who had a new baby. Why did I do that? I’ve asked myself this question a thousand times because I think that moment speaks to the heart of the matter in my life more than any other:

I wanted to appear competent. I wanted to be the kind of mom who can take a new child into her family and STILL have it together enough to make a meal for a family who welcomed their own new baby. I wanted to be able to tell that story for the rest of my life because it made me look like Super Mom.

But you know what? There’s a cost to being Super Mom. I sacrificed precious moments with that new child so I could make this dinner. I sacrificed my own sanity as I stressed over both building a bond with a child and making an impressive meal. I sacrificed being able to fully serve this other family because my head was so firmly buried in my ego. And even when it was all said and done, there was one lasting feeling I was left with and it wasn’t pride about my accomplishment. It was resentment.

Why didn’t anybody see MY need? Why didn’t anyone offer to make a meal for our family? Why didn’t I state my own needs or boundaries instead of caving to expectations that were really only my own? WHY DIDN’T I JUST ORDER THEM A PIZZA AND ONE FOR US, TOO?

There are moments when you are looking at your circumstances and you feel overwhelmed, but you don’t want to tell anybody. You don’t want to ask for help. You don’t want to reveal weakness. Pushing through that feeling, sucking it up and barreling through is an option. You will survive. But it does have consequences. If you choose to do it alone, you may end up feeling less like a hero and more like a lonely island.

I want to apologize for my own contribution to this Super Mom culture. I have sacrificed important moments with my kids in order to do The Thing (whatever it may be) that makes me look more competent to other women. There are times I have chosen to humble brag about how parenting is going instead of being real about the struggles. There were earlier moments in my parenting journey where I turned down offers of help and judged women who needed it. When our fifth baby came to our family I decided I would not say “no” to help when it was offered and that was an important turning point for me.

Are there women who actually do have it all together? I think there are! And good for them! They make sacrifices to make that happen and I trust those sacrifices are worth it to them. The problem happens when I judge the finished product of their sacrifices without knowing what went into it. I want every perfect result of every other woman (how they look, their cooking skills, the crafts they make, the tidy home, the well-behaved kids) without counting the cost of how she got there. And I shame myself when I don’t achieve what I think other people are effortlessly experiencing, which makes me further turn in on myself and push people out.

My husband has gotten really good over the last year at repeating to me, “The only opinions that matter are inside this home.” Yes, that is a little simplistic, but it has been helpful to me in prioritizing what matters when I feel this outside pressure to do everything and do it all well. Am I loving my kids well? Am I being a good wife? Am I serving out of a desire to express love or out of a desire to maintain a certain image of Put-Together Mom? When I start to feel confident in my limitations and boundaries instead of apologetic or shameful about them, everybody wins. My kids win, my husband wins, I win, and even the other moms in my community win when I quit acting like it’s possible for me to personally meet everyone else’s needs on the planet (and wear high heels while doing it).

What I’m coming to learn is that I have regretted turning down help. I thought it would make me feel more empowered and self-sufficient, but it just made me feel lonely. When I have let other people love me by coming alongside and helping me in this parenting journey (by offering me their love, their wisdom, their cookies on occasion), I have been blessed. When I’ve been invited in to that sacred trust from another mom and allowed to offer help, it has been a blessing to me. And doubly so when I do it out of a position of health and not obligation.