So I’ve been thinking…

• You know what is one of the hardest things about being a (Christian) stay-at-home mom? 

Telling people how I really am, how life is really going, what’s really up with me/us.

Okay, so maybe that’s less about my stage of family life and more about my type-A, perfectionistic need to always appear as if I’ve got my life under control and everything well in hand. But still…I really stink at being real.

That’s why I wrote my previous post. An entire post about the things I do that are REAL. Not the life you think I have based on Facebook or blog snippets (or even what I say when I see you in person), where I edit out the worst things and pretend that we don’t struggle through our days and neglect to share that I let Megan sit in her crib boohoo-ing for 20 minutes, hoping that she’d go back to sleep (she finally did, but obviously, I’m a bad mom for letting her “cry it out,” right?).

That’s real life. The hard stuff, the good stuff, the stuff I do that I’m not sure is actually the best, but it’s the best idea I’ve got right now…all mixed up together. Real life, for me, is simply “where I draw the line.” The moment when I put the flag in the ground and stake my claim, no matter what anyone else thinks of my decision or chooses to do in their own families. Sometimes it happens by choice, with planning and purpose. Sometimes it’s just my reaction to the stress and circumstances of my life. But a moment comes when I plant my feet and pick a side…no matter what. 

Of course, that’s also the point when I open myself up to potential condemnation by those same “others.” That’s the breeding ground for every front of the Mommy Wars. At that moment, I’ve committed myself and now someone else can pigeonhole me, compliment me, judge me, agree with me, argue with me, or generally take me to task because they committed themselves differently (or in exactly the same way). 

And that’s, I think, why I try to hide my real life. I don’t want to be judged. I don’t want you to think poorly of me. I drew a line in the sand for myself and my family, but your line might be way more strict…or way more lenient. And then, we’re faced with the question of what to do? Whose line is the right one? And how do we know? So we defend ourselves. We justify ourselves. Or we just don’t share.

• Like the friend who once worked the nursery with me. I complimented her son’s shoes and asked where she got them (good boy shoes are hard to find, after all). Her reply? “Well, they’re StrideRite, but I got them at the outlets on super clearance.” Why would she need to say that? Because she had committed herself (bought him name brand shoes) but she didn’t want me to judge her for splurging on shoes, spoiling her kids, or generally be wealthy (read: snobby and elitist).
• Or another friend who suddenly felt the need to justify their family’s decision to turn their youngest’s car seat front-facing after another friend shared how seriously she believed in leaving kids rear-facing as long as possible. There was actually no judgment in the second mommy’s statement. But still, her line had been drawn at a much different place than the first mommy’s…and it caused tension. First Mommy felt obliged to hedge, explain herself, prove she was still a good mommy. (And she is, of course.)

It happens all the time. Real life means the possibility of real conflict. We make a statement, only to find ourselves backtracking so as not to make someone else feel bad because they do something differently. We share our decision only to find ourselves unexpectedly on the defensive. We hear other women claim that they’ve found the “right” or “best” way, and “Don’t YOU want to do what’s best for your kids, too?” And we are ashamed or feel guilty or defend ourselves or just give up and walk away. 

No wonder we don’t share real life with each other. No wonder I hide behind the cute things my kids do and the amount of sleep we got and just say “fine” or “you know…we’re hanging in there” when someone asks me how I’m doing.

Because sharing real life is messy. Because people can get offended, even hurt, no matter how hard we try to avoid it. Because someone almost always leaves a mom’s group or a women’s group thinking she’s an epic failure because she doesn’t feel as put-together or as capable or as classy or as “whatever” as the other women she just spent 2 hours with “being encouraged.” And it’s not worth it. So we fake it.

But it’s not working for me any more. 

I’m trying to stop faking it. I’m not very good at it. I was a theatre person and (let’s be honest) a goody-two-shoes, legalistic, black-and-white loving, know-it-all for a very long time, so I know how to do the “mask” well. But the chick behind this mask is lonely. And aching for something more. And wishing she knew how to be part of other people’s lives in a real and beneficial way. Wishing she could figure out how to talk less and listen to people more (talking is another protective measure, like the mask). Wishing she know how to welcome and be welcomed instead of holding everyone at arms’ length all the time. 

And I figure, if that’s how I feel…how many other people, especially moms, must feel exactly the same way.

So I’m learning. Yes…I’m really good at judging and mask-wearing. But I’m slowly learning a new way. A gentler way. A way of grace. A way where real life is okay: you can see mine and (hopefully) I can earn the right to see yours. It takes time, and patience and a whole lot of Jesus. But I think it’s exactly the kind of “real life” He’s longing for us (read: me) to live anyway. 

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