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To The Mom Who Thinks She Needs To Get Her Shit Together

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For the last four years or so, I have consistently talked about how I need to get my shit together. You know, start recycling, shower on a regular basis, make sure I actually make it to the lunches I plan with friends, do a great job at work, take care of my children, do the laundry every weekend, spend quality time with my husband, find a hobby that doesn’t include alcohol, lose 20 pounds and Marie Kondo my entire home.

How many other ladies out there have felt the same way? Raise your hands, I know you have said the exact same thing.

But it seems like when I get my shit together in one area of my life, I backslide in another area.

I might start recycling but I forget to pick my kids up from the babysitter.

I might give my kids nice long baths but I leave laundry in the washer for six days.

I might actually hang out with my friends but spend the next day with my head in the toilet because this thirty-four year-old body can’t handle massive amounts of low carb beer like it used to.

I might Marie Kondo the hell out of my closet, but then take a nap because that’s exhausting and when the am I going to fold all my shirts into triangles?

So what are you doing right now, mom that is reading this?

Are you feeling guilty that you are looking at your phone when you should be hanging out with your family?

Are you on your lunch break and really wishing that you could just take a nap because you never get enough sleep?

Are you hiding from your kids in the bathroom and trying to stay silent as fat little fingers slide under the door?

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Are you rewashing the laundry for the third time because you ALWAYS forget about it until it smells?

Because I have been in each and every single one of those situations. And I’ve always thought, “Get your shit together, Jamie!”

But here’s the deal. I honestly don’t think there is a possible way to fully get all your shit together. Something has to give. Perfection is impossible and trying to be perfect is exhausting. And expensive.

So I am going to stop saying that I need to get my shit together.

I am going to be happy with what I have accomplished in my life.

I am going to be happy that I have two adorable little boys with fat fingers that still fit under the bathroom door because according to anyone with grown kids I will miss that when I am peeing in peace one day.

I am going to be happy that my husband hasn’t divorced me because I still squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle.

I am going to be happy that my city doesn’t do free curbside recycling and continue to use the excuse that I can’t fit it in my budget. Back off all you eco-friendly people, I know I should recycle.

I am going to be happy that I have a great job that pays the bills and lets me help other people.

I am going to be happy that my friends also cancel their lunches with me because we are busy and someone always has a puking kid or a work emergency.

I am going to be happy that I do the majority of the laundry each weekend even though I don’t put it away until I need the basket again the next weekend.

I am going to be happy that I actually cleaned out my closet for the first time since high school, even though I did not triangle fold my shirts.

I am going to be happy. Just that. HAPPY. I am going to enjoy my life.

I am going to stop worrying so much.

I am going to stop punishing myself for eating that 400 calorie Lil’ Debbie cupcake from the vending machine at work that may or may not have been expired.

I am going to stop beating myself up for letting my kids have too much screen time.

I am going to stop trying to be someone that I’m not.

Because I can be a hot mess. And sometimes I can appear to have my shit together. And I am going to embrace it all. Because we only have so long to enjoy this beautiful, crazy, shit-filled, unbalanced life we are blessed with.

Until Next Time,

Jamie

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