As a stay-at-home mom with a solid internet addiction, I spend far too much of my time on Facebook mom groups. At one point, I was a member of at least eight different groups, some that specialized in sleep, some that specialized in breastfeeding, some that specialized in sleeping while breastfeeding and some that were just plain full of crazy drama. After finding a group that aligns as closely as possible with my personal parenting philosophy — the Cussin’ and Drinking Mamas Club of Minnesota — I’m down to about three groups that I regularly peruse. Overall, my experiences with Facebook mom groups have made me appreciate one thing — that I am an old mom.
I am 42-years-old and had my first child when I was 35 and my second when I was 40. By the time I had kids, I felt fairly confident in myself as an adult. Do I deserve a medal for this? Yes, yes I do. This isn’t to say I didn’t question myself and my choices from time to time, but intellectually and socially speaking, I felt fairly at ease. Before my first son was born, I read all the recommended books and took the birth and baby classes offered through the hospital. I was the youngest growing up in my family and had very little experience babysitting, so naturally I was worried about becoming a parent. I went in thinking it would be tough, but found it to be about 10 times harder than expected. As much as I second guessed myself with my first child, I found support through friends and family and eventually it got easier. Sure, maybe I worried a bit that I was ruining my child for life because he was only breastfed for five-months and I wasn’t feeding him organic bananas, but I was exhausted enough and confident enough in myself to realize that the expectations put upon parents these days are fucking ridiculous and impossible to attain. Selfishly, I set out to survive the parenting experience as a whole, figuring the kid would be worse off if I was literally dead after bending over backwards to meet some incredibly outlandish expectations. Ultimately, I decided to set the bar low for raising my children — no serial killers, no republicans, and I hope that I’m not setting myself up for disappointment.
I recently saw the following post on a Facebook mom group and it just about broke my heart —
“Just venting. Wishing my kids had a better mom. A real mom. I’m so tired of looking in their little faces and feeling like a complete failure. Does it ever get easier??”
No matter how shitty parenting has sometimes been, I can honestly say in the 2532 days (as of this writing) since I became a parent, I have never felt this sentiment. I’m certainly not saying I couldn’t be a better mom, because I sure as hell know that I could be. Come on, we could all be better people. Period. But I’ve never felt I was doing a disservice to my children by simply being their mom. I wanted to find this woman, hug her and tell her she’s doing just fine. Are the kids are alive at the end of the day? Then you’re doing just fine and everything is going to be alright. It is posts like these that make me feel irate about the state of parenting today in the age of social media and hell, society in general. Our country’s shameless excuse for prenatal and postpartum care, maternity leave policies, high daycare costs and a basic disregard for women’s health in general is disgusting enough. Add on to that the expectations and judgements placed upon mothers from many of these Facebook groups, and it becomes easier to understand how this woman feels. Many women go to these sites to find support and advice, but instead find themselves bombarded with nasty judgements from some nasty ass bitches who have nothing better to do with their time than push their sanctimonious viewpoints upon them.
To those struggling mothers out there — young and old — hang in there. Know that you’re not alone and that there are women out there that don’t suck and won’t look down on you if you need to vent and complain about your kids, or your husband or life in general. Please don’t take parenting too seriously because you’ll drive yourself crazy trying to live up to unattainable standards that nobody really lives up to. As an older mother, maybe I'm less susceptible to a lot of the pressures put on parents to raise the perfect child. However, maybe I’m simply too damn tired to really give two shits about all these expectations.
One of the best things I’ve seen online regarding parenting that is worth keeping in mind on those days when shit is getting you down —
How to be a parent in 2017:
Make sure your children’s academic, emotional, psychological, mental, spiritual, physical, nutritional and social needs are met while being careful not to over stimulate, under stimulate, improperly medicate, helicopter or neglect them in a screen-free, processed foods-free, GMO-free, negative energy-free, plastic-free, body positive, socially conscious, egalitarian but also authoritative, nurturing but fostering of independence, gentle but not overly permissive, pesticide-free two-story, multilingual home, preferably in a cul-de-sac with a backyard and 1.5 siblings spaced at least two years apart for proper development, also don’t forget the coconut oil.
How to be a parent in literally every generation before ours:
Feed them sometimes.
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