Thursday, October 14, 2010

Men are from Mars

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The rhetoric about why women and mothers judge each other has raged on long before I was even considering being one. I will shamefully admit that I judge other moms. Poor "Mrs. Whiteskirt" has been the recipient of much of that judgment as of late.
We judge their appearance, the cleanliness of their house, their parenting choices, and even the weight of their child. We do it mercilessly.

I will now consciously take a step away from referring to mothers as the collective and simply speak for myself.

I see a mother who has a clean house and think “she must spend hours each day cleaning while her baby sits in his crib”.
I see a mother who is perfectly put together, a la Mrs. Whiteskirt, and think “she must have tons of debt to be able to buy those clothes”.
I hear of a mother who is bed-sharing with her little one and think “poor husband isn’t getting any action”.
I see a baby who is obviously more robust than dear K and think “poor thing is over fed”.

It’s cruel. It’s mean. It’s childish. But I just can’t stop. This must be why I constantly feel judged. I know that if I am doing it, others must be too.
I am lucky to have 3 women in my life that I don’t feel judged by. I don’t care if they come over and see my saggy post-nursing bra-less boobs. I don’t care if they see my kitchen is a mess from last night’s dinner. Funny thing is, these are all women that I have met since becoming a mommy. And for these women I am beyond grateful for (it is quite liberating to have a messy house MMS battle). Thanks LO, TM and KC!

But this debate could go on about my own insecurities and feelings of inadequacy. Instead, I am writing about whether or not I really care!
Truth be told, I do not care what other women think. If I dig deep into where my insecurities come from, there is only one person that I care what they think. There is one person that I long for acceptance and acknowledgment from (no, this is not “my daddy is an asshole” diatribe). Worse part of it, the person that I most long for acceptance from is the least likely person to provide me with the words I need to hear.

I ache to hear my husband say I am beautiful. I long for my husband to praise my accomplishments as a mother. I wish for him to say that he is so glad he chose me to be the mother of his baby. I need him to thank me for the things I do to keep us going. Unfortunately, this is not the man I married.

I married the strong, silent type. And I love him for it!