On Being an Everyday Mom

I didn’t want to post this. I haven’t written in a month or so (MUCH longer than I had planned), and it seemed easier to come back with a celebratory “hooray” and some post that justifies my silence lately…something that tells you all of the glorious busyness that has kept me away from my writing this month.

But here’s the truth: I got busy with my normal life. I ironed shirt collars, made PBJs, played outside with my little one, ran errands, did chores, and taught the toddler class at church. We had the flu right after I posted last, and you all know how fun that is. And all the while, my weekly writing somehow got off-track, faltered into writer’s block.

“Why am I not writing?” I finally asked myself this week. And there it was—a hard truth immediately dawned in my heart. It’s not that every moment of every day has been impossibly full of responsibility or fun (because we do have a lot of fun!), and thus I had no time. It was worry that held me back. I didn’t want to confess about the normalcy that filled my days. Don’t we all want to put our best foot forward and highlight the special things? My life this month didn’t feel glamorous. It didn’t feel inspiring. It felt plain. But it’s not.

And here’s the long and short of it: we are everyday moms. I never want to deny the beautiful, daily normalcy of matching socks or cutting onions to the background music of Austen giggling furiously about Curious George. I hope this is what I remember someday when I think about this phase of our lives. I want to remember my little girl playing outside passionately every sunny afternoon in the spring. I want to remember ironing my husband’s work clothes, the kale breakfast smoothie-making, the looooong nights trying to put my toddler to sleep, all of these things in my life that are so normal but are cumulatively shaping me into a better, future me.

I’m writing this because I have a heart to mother well, to be a good wife, to be a writer for all of you fellow moms who need a comforting, relatable voice out here in the internet void; I do not want to show you only the pretty and picturesque parts of my life. I want you to see me as I am: an everyday mom. I am just like you.

We all do special things, go special places, and celebrate special occasions. I want to share those things, also. But I don’t want excitement and novelty (or the lack thereof) to determine when I write. I want to deny comparison all of its power. I want all of us to be real moms together—with all of our milestones and achievements and all of our struggles and laundry piles. There is no need to hide our true selves on social media—denying that we have normal (even boring!) moments somehow diminishes their value in our own minds and allows the comparison game to continue among moms, something that I desperately wish I could eliminate entirely.

To me, the most boring parts of my life as a mom are cherish-worthy, or else they should be. I don’t want to forget them, pretend they aren’t there, and I don’t want to hide them from you. This is my life! It’s amazing, every minute of it. 

Join me in celebrating being an everyday mom?

<3, Courtlandt