I was so excited to get my review copy of Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box in the mail yesterday. I'm only a few chapters in, but the book argues that mothers need to maintain their sanity--and themselves--by aiming a little less high. In this age of extreme parenting, internal and external expectations for moms are so elevated and unrealistic that we're setting ourselves up for failure. Society expects us to do everything right: Breastfeed exclusively. Practice babywearing. Make our own organic baby food. Put our families before our careers. Sign our children up for the right enrichment activities. Buy them the right toys. Send them to preschool, ensure they get into the right college. Keep them happy and entertained at all costs.
And most importantly, love every minute of it. Find utter fulfillment in being a mommy.
But guess what? Motherhood isn't a primrose path. It's one of the best choices I've ever made, don't get me wrong. But while it's cool to bitch about being stressed out, it's not socially acceptable to admit that playing with Play-Doh is boring, that we miss staying out or sleeping in...that as much as we'll always love our children, sometimes we don't like them very much.
Enter True Mom Confessions, an anonymous website where mothers can unload their mommy guilt. Some of the posts are funny. More than a few are sad. But what's even sadder is knowing that women need a deep, dark corner of the Internet to share their insecurities.
