Mothers of the world...forgive me.
I don't know if it's the age old adage of "misery loves company" or what...but I love seeing your true selves. I love seeing a Mom that portrays to the world a certain image and then by chance...I happen to catch the real you.
I know you're thinking, "What in the hell is she talking about?"
I'm an easily impressed and intimidated Mom. I am easily intimidated by well put together Moms. Moms with a never ending supply of patience. Moms that manage to keep a beautiful, tidy home and well-behaved, on-task children. I get sucked into the thought process of, "What am I doing wrong? How can she do it all? (and still train for a marathon and look like she stepped out of Vogue?) Why aren't I that good?"
I get a quick glimpse of reality.
I love reality.
I love catching you off guard and not made up like a runway model. I love seeing that wild look in your eyes of a caged animal; patience having long ago run out. I love seeing you looking like you are D-O-N-E with demanding children. I love seeing your house in slight disarray. I love seeing you be real.
I forgive myself for my "faults"...every time I see you be real. I see myself in your crazy, tired, stressed out face, looking like you'd bolt for the open front door if only you could shake the clingy toddler off your leg. I see myself in your floors that haven't been swept in two days and the mountain of laundry creeping out of the laundry room. I see myself in you, as your rambunctious kids reenact a MMA scene around the living room.
I see your reality.
So...I'll try not to cringe the next time I see you looking perfect and happy. I know the truth. You're wearing mismatched socks, there are goldfish crackers swimming under the seats of your expensive SUV and when you get home you are changing into sweatpants.
I love reality.