The Truth about Supermum...

Twice lately someone has referred to me as a "Supermum". I can tell you right now that I am...

(a) completely uncomfortable to have my name and hers mentioned in the same sentence and

(b) so far from being Supermum that I have more in common with a Goldfish (I actually have the same memory span as our fishy friends).

I am sure those poor misguided individuals just got confused. Maybe blinded by my party doings? or my painting and decorating efforts? Ha! Did they not see the pictures of what I left undone while I spent time on my creative endeavours?? The sinks, benches and washing baskets piled high? The baby wandering around in gumboots with sticky fingers and a snotty nose? The last-minute rehashed dinner menu (a repeating cycle of nachos, spag bol, curry'n'rice and bangers'n'mash with takeaways on the weekend...?)

So here I am putting the record straight. I truly aint no Supermum!
In case you were under any illusions (which can only mean that you have not been reading this blog for very long!)

Now, what I am about to say may come as a shock to some of you, and a relief to others. I don't want to be the one to burst your bubble or shatter your illusions, but I really think someone should tell you this... it's about Supermum...

She. Doesn't. Exist.

I know! I know! I thought she did too! But I have come to realise she is actually a grown-ups version of Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy: Made up. An illusion.
Sorry.

Am I sure, you ask?? Well, an article I read the other day put the final nail in Supermum's coffin as far as I'm concerned (a link found in a great post by Gail)

The author, Deborah Hill Cone, said:

"Sisters, we have got to stop buying into all this Superwoman, Supernanny, Yummy Mummy, Alpha Female, MILF, Cougar craziness. It is nonsense. It is killing us, literally.

For too long we have all been complicit in this grand delusion that if you just get more organised or efficient or fitter or focused or a new personal trainer, or life coach, or gluten-free diet, you can control your life.
You can be the hard-arse career woman as well as the mother who makes her own organic baby food, and the designer homemaker and the sexpot wife.
Well I am telling you now: this is utter, utter tosh. Some of these roles are mutually exclusive, for a start.
You simply can't do it all. And we need to stop torturing each other by acting as though it is even an option..."

It's true. She's right. Show me a mum you think has it all together (and I mean all) and I will show you someone who is barely keeping the balls in the air or the plates spinning. At some point you just know that gravity is gonna kick in.

Like the lady Deborah Cone talks about in her article. She had it all together (or looked like she did) and then one day it all got too much and she just... well, I'll let you read the story.

The truth is Supermum is Fiction. She belongs in a comic book. She has nothing to do with real life.

In real life, we have our good days and our bad days. In real life we do some things well and let other things slide. In real life we often make mistakes... sometimes even the same one twice! In real life we can't do it all, can't have it all. Sorry. Them's the facts. Something's gotta give.

Whatever choices we make there are sacrifices. Whatever we prioritise, something else loses out.

I blog. I do it when my kids are at school and my little guy sleeps. Or in the evening when they're all in bed, and hubby's out, like now. I love it. It's a creative outlet for me. But what gives?? The housework, mostly. So sometimes I do a mad spring clean and make up for lost time. On those days I don't get to blog.

I can't do it all.

And neither can you, my friend. So go easy on yourself.

(Pssssst! Supermum doesn't exist... Pass it on!)

Click here for Deborah Cone's Article

Top Image by IdiotGraphic

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