The Measure of a Mom

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Mama Kat wrote an interesting (and inspiring) post the other day about how mom’s are expected to do it all. We’re supposed to handle everything that goes on in the day to day…the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, taking care of the kids, keeping our marriage together, romancing our husband, staying clean, playing with our kids, and getting in adequate “alone time” to stay sane.

That’s a lot of pressure on one person.

Especially on a mom.

Especially on a mom with more than one child…or a child with strong-willed behavioral tendencies.

If that’s everything that is expected to get done in a day, then this mama is a FAILURE.

On any given day…

You will find at least one unfolded load of laundry sitting in either the dryer or the laundry basket (wrinkling) and waiting to be folded.

My bed most likely unmade, and a majority of the pillows strewn across the floor (because my son thinks he’s a Ninja Warrior…or Buzz Lightyear…and the bed is the ONLY place that Ninja’s and Space Rangers can land safely without excruciating boo-boos to the head).

My floor, despite my constant attempts at keeping it clean, is probably covered in Cheetos, or Cheerios, or bits of leftover Pop Tart from breakfast (Strawberry or Oreo…depending on the day).

My desk will almost certainly be littered with papers, notebooks, random post-it notes with scribbles on them (from when “my secretary” needs to jot something down while playing filing away important papers at my desk. And by “secretary” I do mean my son).

My husband’s desk…well, we just won’t even get into that catastrophic mess. If you’re lucky, I will have attempted to tidy it up.

During any given week…

We’ve had pizza…or Hamburger Helper…or Cheeseburgers at least once. However, this week in particular (and it’s only Wednesday) we’ve had Hamburger Helper twice…

The laundry will be overflowing, or the hamper will be slam full.

My bath room mats will feel like they’ve been drenched by a monsoon (also named “Noah”) at least three times, but will still be sitting in the floor because I haven’t had time to wash them.

You can probably find dust bunnies hiding under the end tables that are as big as your fist. One downfall to life in Alaska, is the dust. I guarantee you, your house doesn’t get as dusty as mine.

My husband will have to go dig through the basket of clean clothes on top of the dryer for a pair of socks or clean underwear.

My son will have watched at least 12 hours of Mickey Mouse, and 12-16 hours of Cars, Toy Story, Kung Fu Panda, or whatever new movie is the highlight of his life during the given week.

However…

Despite all of my downfalls…

Despite all of the wrinkled, unfolded laundry; the not-always-gourmet meals; and the fact that my son watches “too much TV” (depending on who you ask)…

My husband and kiddo do have clean clothes every single day.

My house is relatively clean, and my floors do get vacuumed at least twice a day most days.

And most importantly, My Family is Loved.

I may not be the best cook. I may not be a professional housekeeper. But there is laughter, and excitement, and silliness, and joy, and happiness oozing out of every single corner of our house.

We have fun. We laugh and cut up and play. And we leave things like “cleaning” alone on the weekends so that we can enjoy time together.

And in my opinion?

That makes me a pretty Kick-A Mommy (and wife).

Those are the things that matter…

Just ask these guys:

{linking up today with Pour Your Heart Out and Wordfull Wednesday @ Parenting by Dummies}