Don’t we all want to be *that* mom? That “Supermom” that can do it all? Keeps a clean house, gets her kids to school and every activity, clean and impeccably dressed–and ON TIME– always? That mom that cooks a homemade meal every night and has a sparkling clean kitchen sink, and still makes time to read her Bible in the morning, write in her journal in the evening and even squeeze in a morning 5k run with her friends? That mom that can handle a career and a family and still whip up a mean pot roast?

That mom who never has to frantically throw clutter into a closet when the doorbell rings for fear of a visitor seeing how she “really” lives? That mom whose home could pass the white glove test at any random time? That mom fortunate enough to have given birth to wonderful perfect children who have never done anything wrong, get straight A’s in school, are perfect at everything, have straight teeth, are future homecoming queens/Harvard graduates/nuclear physicists/whatevers, and could never take a bad picture to save their life?

That mom whose hair is always perfect thanks to a $50 salon product, makeup flawless, clothes with nary a wrinkle and always stylish?

Newsflash: Those Supermoms don’t really exist.

I’ve tried over the years to be that kind of mom. I’ve tried to be even a tiny bit *close* to that kind of mom. I’ve written before that I’m far from being this type of Mom. My house is very rarely in a state of being ready for visitors to stop in unannounced.

Actually, I will just go out on a limb and say my house is NEVER like that. If someone rang my doorbell right this second, and stopped over unannounced, I would literally have a heart attack on the spot.

Someone might take a look at my life and think I am managing it all– a job, a family, a marriage, and a home. I am woman, hear me roar!

In reality, I am just keeping my head above water each and every day. You won’t see an immaculate house when you come over. There is usually a laundry basket of  clothes sitting on my family room couch that may or may not need to be folded. I tend to always have at least a few loads of laundry always taunting me from the laundry room. My bed never gets made except {maybe} on the weekends.

And someone PLEASE tell me I’m not the only Mom out there who has had to perform the “sniff test” on an article of clothing to check to see if it’s clean. And even if its not, it might get worn anyways.

I’m just sayin’.

When we ever get around to grocery shopping, we purge our kitchen pantry and refrigerator of lots of expired food. We simply aren’t home enough to eat what we buy.

I don’t carry around a bottle of hand sanitizer and I don’t make my kids wash their hands all the time.   I have never remembered to get my kids (or myself) a flu shot.  EVER.      I often get several reminders in the mail about scheduling them for a bi-annual dentist appointment before I get around to actually DOING IT. 

My kids’ sports uniforms get washed the night before a game, because I usually forget about them until the kids start hunting them down. My house would never ever ever ever pass a white glove test, and you could probably buy yourself a McDonalds Value Meal {or two} with the change you’d find under my couch cushions.  Heck, you just might FIND a McDonald’s Value Meal under my couch cushions. You just never know. You’d at least probably find a french fry or two three.  It might come with a side of dog hair, but still — protein!!  Woot!!

And my kids? Yes I write about how fantastic they are, and what great friends they are, what good choices they make… and yes, they do get straight A’s–usually. But I don’t tell you about the arguments we have, the drama that raising girls causes in our house. I don’t write about the yelling or the fighting or the bickering about who lets the dogs out more than the other, or who’s turn it is to unload the dishwasher, or who did what to who…

I don’t dare mention what it’s like when there is more than one menstruating female in the house (oh yes, husband.  I WENT THERE.)  I don’t mention that I can get all Mama Bear crazy up in this HIZZAY, just because sometimes– it’s all overwhelming.   Really, we’re just real life here, people.   We’re not perfect.  We’re NORMAL.   Or God help me, I certainly hope this is normal. 

I guess what I’m trying to say is I may not be perfect, and I’m done trying to be. I’m raising my kids and managing my family as best as I can. Someone asked me yesterday “Are you sure you’re ready to add another child to your family? That’s going to make you guys really busy!”

And my answer is YES. One hundred and ten percent, YES.

You want to know why?  Because despite the messy house, despite the fact that I am way overscheduled, I know my kids will will grow up with some hilarious stories to tell their own kids someday.     My kids will remember that their mom may not have made a home-cooked meal every single night, but she sure never missed a soccer game or a music program.   They will remember that laundry wasn’t exactly my favorite chore to do, but NEVER did a single day go by that they didn’t hear the words “I Love you.”

Now that’s what I call being a Supermom.