Listen Mom, I’m tired of your “eye lasers” zapping me in the face while my toddler plays with my iPhone. Your judgement is showing. And frankly, it’s raining on my parade. I have 30 minutes to get in and out of this grocery store; I’ve had a long day and have already decided that I’m not willing to muster up the energy to stand firm when the whining ritual for M&M’s and Ironman-juice happens. (Yes, they have juice boxes shaped like Ironman now). I can see all over your face that you don’t approve of me letting my kid’s brain rot via Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Because, to you, that’s what I’m doing, right?

Today I felt the need to spend 2 of my 30 minutes in the cereal aisle, explaining to MOTY (Mom Of The Year) that my son only plays with my phone for 30 minutes, maybe 3 times/week. Probably less. We spend the rest of everyday learning, exploring and making the most of life.


And one more thing, Moty: Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is seriously awesome and educational.

True, but why did I feel like I needed to explain myself? Why did I waste 2 minutes trying to prove that I’m a good Mom to someone who doesn’t have any influence over our lives? Who’s Moty? I don’t know her and she surely doesn’t know me!

I did it, because deep down inside, there’s still a tiny root of insecurity telling myself that I’m missing the mark. I’m telling myself that maybe 30 minutes of Mickey is too much and maybe other Moms can get out of the store faster and more efficiently, sans cell phone. Deep down, I question what I’m doing and how I’m doing it. Moty got under my skin because I let her.

When you’re 100% confident in something, a little judgement won’t ruffle your feathers.

As I grow into motherhood, wifeylife, careerdom, and faith, I’m learning a lesson that I hope you can also embrace: we have to own and embrace the messiness as vital links in the chain of success. It’s what holds everything together! If I were always on time, always put together, always making people happy, always finishing my lists, always being supermom, always on point professionally — I’d be a freakshow! Who does that? Perfection is fake.

I want to learn how to be more confident in my mess.

I want to stop comparing myself to other moms who seem to be gracefully succeeding in the balancing act of career and family, while I tumble down the stairs.

I sincerely believe the key to making this happen is to “talk nice” to ourselves. (I can’t take credit for this phrase — I got it from one of my favorite lifestyle inspirations: We need to remind ourselves that in all our imperfection, we are the perfect parent for our kids. We need to remind ourselves that even though right this second we look worn down and ragged, when we “clean up” a little, we are straight up HOTTIES! We need to remind ourselves that we are good at our craft. We’re a boss. We work hard and make things happen.

We need to talk nice to ourselves.

So, to you, reader: pull that tiny root of insecurity out of your life like the weed that it is,

kick your “Moty” to the curb and don’t waste any more time under-appreciating your awesomeness.
Carry on….


Talk nice to yourself, don't let mom of the year (MOTY) make you feel guilty.

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