Meet Mary from Trusty Chucks
You know those cute mothers that have it all together, make dinner every night, have a perfect marriage, and never sweat?
But I beat myself up at least once a day for not being that mom. That person that I don’t know. That person that, if I met in real life, I’d probably just want to run over with my car.
So it makes no sense that I compare myself to this mythical person that doesn’t exist and I wouldn't like even if she did exist. But I do. All.the.time.
And I could rant and rave for hours about how the world puts pressure on women/moms, how we do it to each other, how reading other’s blogs can become destructive. But I don’t want to blame others because I think, ultimately, it’s up to me. It’s up to me to decide who I let influence me. What I read, what I watch, and who I listen to.
Transparency: some days that works. And some days it doesn’t. The good news is today is a day it’s working. The bad news is all last week it wasn't.
One resolution I made for the new year (allll the way back in January, seems so long ago, really), was to be more transparent in my writing. I don’t want someone to visit my blog and think things that aren't true. Because I need my little space on the Internet, no matter how small, to be positive and uplifting or I’m just wasting my time. And yours.
I started writing a post yesterday with the opening sentence “In my devotion today, I read…” and it was going to be brilliant and moving and change lives. But as I read the first paragraph, I felt the need to add that while I’m awesome and did my devotion today, the last time I did it before today, was February 10th. Two and a half months ago. And because I didn’t share that, the rest of my soon-to-be world-changing revelations felt cheap and fake because I forgot to throw in that I’m not very good at making one-on-one time with my god. And while not proud of it, it’s the truth and you needed to know.
Or when I post a what-I-wore post HERE because I find that fun and it’s given me new passion for what clothes I wear. But for every semi-cute outfit I wear, there are 4-6 boring ones I choose to leave out. Because no one will be inspired by the khakis, Chuck Taylors, and middle school t-shirt that I wore to
work that day. But I make it well known that I can’t keep up the care-about-fashion façade twenty-four-seven. And if you don’t believe me, just ask my husband. He’ll be more than happy to tell you about my love for exercise clothes, especially when I have no intention of working out.
I’m starting to embrace the whole less-than-perfect idea. Sometimes we have peanut butter and jelly for dinner because I’m just too tired to make anything else. Sometimes that smell I love of my daughters’ HERE is masked by the smell of dirt and playing outside and I let them go to bed stinky. And sometimes I don’t shower before going to work because I just can’t get out of bed.
I’ve decided that sort-of a mess Mary is better than always-unhappy Mary. So things are chaotic always sometimes, but I’m genuinely happy. And plus, I read a study recently that said if you’re a mom that questions whether you’re doing enough, that normally means you’re doing enough. And that made the
desire to run over imaginary perfect women with my car go away. Sort of.
Check out Mary’s lovely blog, Trusty Chucks and