Wednesday, June 26, 2013


I've found that it's really difficult to tell someone that you are struggling with something. When you tell someone you're feeling particularly ugly that day, it's like they are obligated to say "Oh no, you're beautiful!" Which is probably a good thing. I don't really want someone to agree that I look like a cow that has been run over by a dump truck.

When you tell someone that you feel overwhelmed as a new parent, they say it's normal, and that you're doing great. But sometimes I know that's a lie. I am not always doing great. Sometimes I suck. But really, I don't need anyone to agree that forgetting to bathe my baby for a week makes me a bad mother.

But sometimes it would be nice to be able to get an honest opinion about something. I think that's where websites like Hot or Not came to be. Remember that? It was a horrible, horrible place, but at the same time it was really fun. And I understand why people would want to see what others think of them, but in a somewhat private way.

I think that is the hardest thing about not working anymore is that I don't get regular feedback. I used to be told every few days, or every few weeks at the most, how I was doing. Formal reviews happened twice a year, but between that I would get good job emails, or someone telling me that I missed the mark completely and needed to start over. I had clear objectives that I either hit, or didn't. I could assign a number to what I did every day.

Jules doesn't respond to much that I do, other than smiling and cooing now and then. Steve is too nice to tell me that dinner was horrible, probably because he knows he would end up cooking for a week or more. There are no metrics for motherhood, no ratings for a clean house, and nothing is ever really done.

I'm turning off comments so no one feels the need to give the obligatory You're Doing Great cheer. I don't really think I'm doing that bad. Jules is alive and growing, and generally seems pretty happy. I haven't burned the house down. Steve hasn't run away from home. But I think there is something soothing about acknowledging that sometimes, I suck at life. And it's ok.