Disclaimer: this info-journal is honest. Some things I talk about may not be what some people are wanting or ready to hear. This is about personal growth and a SuperMom cannot grow unless she feels she needs to. Plain and simple, you may get offended. But know what I say is said in love. It’s said in truth and in love and to help other mothers dig deep, feel good about what they do well, and to help them address the areas they need work. There are things a mother does not need to feel condemnation about. I believe that correction in love is far more effective than condemnation. But there are some things that require more serious attention than others, and some actions that require more serious correction. It is in that spirit that mothers should read this. And they really should. My mission is to dispel society’s picture of the self-centered, want and need-gratified woman. I’m sick of it. And I’m not alone. In response to questions and comments I have had in the way I hold my marriage and raise my children I have started this journal. Not because I think I am perfect (far from it,) but because I believe mothers and wives have things that we all can learn from each other. This is my contribution.
“The Power of the SuperMom”
If you are reading this blog, you’re probably thinking, “who on earth is this woman, what is a SuperMom, and what makes her qualified to say anything about it?” Well, as my college English professor said, start with the introduction then eat the elephant one bite at a time.
My name is Erin Lloyd. I am a 25 year old mother of three, former single mother, and currently a stay-at-home mom. I’ve been married to the love of my life, a Marine named Joshua, for currently almost two years. I am the proud mother of a four year old boy named Hayden, a twenty-month-old girl named Molly-Ann, and a four-month-old baby boy named Josh Jr. My husband is a correctional officer, a protector, and a provider for my family. I sell home-crafted baby and mother’s items online as a cottage industry to pay a few bills and express my creative side. Our life is good here. It wasn’t always…but it is now.
So what is a SuperMom and why am I qualified to talk about it? Let me answer that for you:
You know what I’m sick of? I’m sick of seeing live-in nannies glorified on TV. I’m sick of watching a show that depicts parents without their children most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, I think the feminist movement did fantastic things for the fairer sex. (Yes, I did just say the fairer sex. We are prettier than men, we are more fair, I.e.: we are the fairer sex. If you are offended by that, quit reading.) I’m sick of being made to feel like since I am a stay-at-home mommy without a career to drain me every day that I’m not worth anything as a person. I believe that choice, the choice of career or stay-at-home, is something every mother must decide for herself. What is right for me may not be right for others. But I have the ability to stand back and look at it and tell it like it is. That’s why I want to write this blog. Not because I think I’m perfect (if I thought I was perfect, it’d be called “Perfect Mom” not SuperMom.) My sister, my mother, they both would have stories to tell you about how un-perfect I am, and they would be right. I’m not a perfect mom, but the difference between being a perfect mom and being a “SuperMom” is this: SuperMoms try harder. SuperMoms strive every day to be better about more and more things. We’re better than perfect moms, because we earn it. Perfect moms have everything handed to them, their children behave, their bills are paid on time, they have everything they could want, need or desire. They drive fancy cars, their houses are clean and their husbands buy them diamond rings on a weekly basis with money to spare. That is NOT my life. My life is this:
5:30am, baby squalls, roll over in bed, try not to fall out while pulling him out of his co-sleeper. Try to be awake enough to decide which breast to nurse first. Get it wrong and get a wet shirt. Decide not to chance waking baby up again and just deal with it. Gradually fall back asleep.
7:30am, awaken by two children, one a 4-year-old boy who stands at the side of your bed staring at you intently until you feel it and crack an eye open. And the other a one-and-a-half-year-old girl who stumbles up next to him and then the smell of two-week-old dead skunk hits you and you realize its coming from her diaper.
7:45am, after pulling on an oversized tee and baggy sweatpants over your twisted up and breast milk soaked (again) wifebeater you wore to bed last night, you calmly try to sit on the floor to change said one-and-a-half-year-old baby girl. She decides to kick and scream to make the situation more interesting. Mission accomplished, you take the WMD of a diaper to the trashcan. Repeat process on three-month-old baby boy who smiles at you and makes your heart melt despite the fact that your eyelids are so heavy you feel like you need to staple them to your hairline.
8:15am, prepare breakfast of equal portions of grain, fruit, dairy, and protein. Baby girl eats little bites of each then immediately dumps the rest on floor. Repeat process and try to spoon feed her. Get frustrated and swear she won’t eat until lunch. Make her a promise and this time you are gonna stick with it. Drink two cups of coffee.
8:25am, give baby girl first apple slice of the day.
8:47am, second apple slice. You still smell that skunky diaper and realize in the kicking and screaming some diaper gunk stuck to your shirt and is completely encrusted on. Change said shirt.
9:07am, two packages of fruit snacks and five crackers later you tell yourself that, “well, at least she’s eating healthy things.”
10:32am, the “troublesome twosome’s” first meltdown of the day following brother’s desperate sneaky attempt to confiscate the chocolate bar hidden in the back of the cupboard. He takes after his mother, he can sniff it out. You take it away, tell them no candy until after lunch. They cry. And cry. And cry. And kick the cabinet.
10:33am, first time-out of the day. Still crying…
10:36am, time-out over, apologies made.
10:37am, crying for candy begins again. You tell them no, no candy until after lunch. You’re going to stick with it.
10:38am, first piece of candy of the day. One for them, two for you.
10:42am, second piece for them, third, fourth, and fifth for you.
10:57am, catch dog and pry leftover chocolate from her teeth.
11:32am, start lunch consisting of all major food groups.
12:02pm, clean 3 major food groups from under the highchair….
And I’ll stop there, as you get the idea. My main point is that whoever came up with the idea that you either need to be a force to recon with in the workplace, or a blue-ribbon Mrs. Cleaver in the home should be shot. So I started this blog, because other mothers I know ask me how I get through every day with three very young children, a home, and a husband. I feel we all have things to learn from each other as mothers. We all can draw from other SuperMoms’ experiences. And I believe we all are SuperMoms. Just saying it outloud is powerful. Go ahead, say it. “I am a SuperMom.” Say it every day. Say it every time you feel discouraged, frustrated, angry, depressed, even when you are happy. Say it over and over. Because being a SuperMom is as easy as just trying to better yourself as a mother, as a wife, and as a woman every day. Tell yourself what you do well, then tell yourself where you want to improve. Make it a part of your every day experience. Wake up, look in mirror, tell self I am a SuperMom. I had to. I felt so bogged down and so much of a failure that I literally had to grab myself by the bra straps and get out of the slump. And it worked!
So this blog is dedicated to mothers everywhere who want a little extra guidance, who want someone to talk to, to share ideas with, and even someone to give advice to. I am always looking to learn new things.
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