Momming Is Hard

Jena Muhr ponders how falling into the comparison trap adds unnecessary challenges to the beautiful vocation of motherhood.

Momming is hard. It is the greatest calling and the hardest job that I have ever had. This is a job that you can’t be fired from and you can’t quit because you have the title and honor for life. I’m not sure about you; but if I’m being honest, it is something that I struggle with a fair amount of days right now. I know that is no such thing as the perfect mom, perfect Catholic or perfect family. We are all called to do the best that we can, but it is a struggle sometimes. This especially rings in my ears when others seem so much better at it than me.

I have always been competitive. I like being good at things and work hard at being the best that I can be. I love a good challenge and don’t accept defeat easily. I have run marathons, completed higher education and can hang a picture on the wall pretty darn well. But raising kids and being a mom is something that somedays kicks my booty.

Often when I start feeling down on myself, thoughts of what other moms and wives do for their families start to creep in. On Instagram I see women who keep a well-tended garden that she uses to feed her 7 well-behaved, always clothed, vegetable-eating children. Homeschool all of them, with breaks consisting of singing the Litany of the Saints in perfect pitch. And manage to have her husband's house shoes warmed for him when he gets home from work in time for dinner and the after-dinner Rosary. All while maintaining a tidy and beautifully decorated home.

20221013 JMuhr 2

Especially lately, this seems like an unattainable dream for me. I struggle to keep a succulent alive on my kitchen counter (unless it makes noise, I struggle to remember to feed it). More meals that I like consist of reheating frozen foods or boxed mac and cheese. I cannot hold a tune to save my kids’ ears. The kids haven’t willingly eaten a vegetable since they were in a highchair. And my poor husband is lucky if he hasn’t gotten the desperate call to pick up something for dinner on his way home. Untidy is a very kind way of describing my home.

Not all days are like this, and I have to remind myself that this craziness is temporary. As the kids get older, they will become better at helping out around the house and be able to better clean up after their messes. Construction projects eventually end (and move on to the next area of the house). My husband, God love him, supports me through all the nuttiness and has never expressed disappointment for not having his house slippers warmed by the fire. We also live in Southern California, so it might be better to put his flip-flops in the freezer if I want to impress him.

Often, when I start feeling down on myself, thoughts of what other moms and wives do for their families start to creep in. #catholicmom

null

I may never become a decent singer. And the house will likely never be as tidy as I would like it to be or as clean I see other people’s online. But my kids are happy, mostly clothed (again, Southern California), and are learning and growing faster than I ever imagined. So maybe I need to be better at embracing the moment, not being so hard on myself and comparing myself to others, but on actively living with and for my family. Maybe I need to cut back on my time online or become better at accepting that that is their way of serving their families, and mine might look a little different. It might not be better or worse, but this is the way things go. And that is all right.