Basically, a Realmomster is what happens to a normal #mom after she counts to three… But that’s pretty much something we do every day, for different occasions, hoping that the number 3 will induce some sort of urgency in them. Nothing more wrong than that, but anyways. Realmomsters are women who are not perfect, enjoy a splash of alcohol now and then (or every night after the kids go to bed), have a sense of humour and couldn’t care less what others think. They can also be called goddess, bitch boss, unicorns and nature’s perfect gift to earth.
Now, you might think you’re a regular mom (I highly doubt that), but you’re most probably a #realmomster. If you’re not sure though, here are some top rules to find out if you’re one!
As in the other one there’s usually a babY slash toddler whose favourite place is in mommy’s arms. So parenting has thought her to brush teeth, put make up on, shower, cook, wipe off furniture, type on the computer, get dressed, pee, make/drink coffee, pack baby bags, look for keys, and the list goes on, with one single hand. We’re basically at the same level of dexterity with circus clowns, only we look prettier.
The process is hard, we all know that. Holding your breath while squeezing your hand through the bed’s bars to pamper them, while laying in positions you didn’t even know you could pull off (*reminder for your next yoga class). And if you happen to forget something in there… at least make sure it’s not your phone. Because dragons have a sixth sense of knowing when you are trying to sneak back out.
Realmomsters know that they will never, or very rarely, shower, pee or spend bathroom time by themselves. Before I had kids, I was so selfish. I showered every day. I mean, I was taking this as a given, and not as a privilege. But moms learn along the road called #motherhood that showers (especially the ones above 2 minutes) are something rare, something beautiful, something you should be grateful for and perhaps even GIVE THANKS FOR. Hashtag eyeroll. Don’t you think it’s just weird that my kid would walk right past his father sitting on the couch and will bang on my shower door asking me to turn on Peppa Pig on TV.
They refuse to change their whole lives just because they went from independent, sexy goddesses to #moms. They will very likely get close to fellow mom friends who share the same burdens and challenges and excitement about having one or more kids, and they will unite forces and go out for coffee or lunch with their bundles of joy. Chances are they won’t get to talk too much about anything, and will probably spend most of the time saying “don’t touch that”, “don’t go out the door”, “don’t disturb other people” or “please stop eating the napkins”. But the important thing is they. are. out. They will fix their hair and put some blush and mascara on, and they will dress nicely, and that’s already the best they can do, and will feel so much better. So moms, even if you have dragons, take them out and teach them manners of socialising.
Never miss out on a chance to prove to your beloved husband (or boyfriend, upon case) that your inner goddess is even stronger after becoming a mom. Yeah we have dirty hair and load endless laundry baskets, yeah we shower with kids and we make baby food that no one eats, but one thing is for sure: your other half will always look at you with the eyes of a wolf that he is, and you’ll be doing both of you a favour by relishing the wild lioness from time to time. Take advantage of him getting home late, put the kid(s) to bed as early as you can, light them candles, play some Sade and make his favourite meal. All this while wearing just your satin robe. Or whatever you feel sexiest in. Effect guaranteed.
Sometimes I let my kid play by himself and don’t even check on him for minutes on end. I could say I let him play unsupervised because I want to foster his independence, but in reality I do it because I yell less when I have no idea what’s happening. I have of course moments when I’m all in. But I hate it when I play with my kid for 6 hours just so it turns out it was just 20 minutes. Know what I’m talking about? I mean yeah they’re cool but it gets so boring sometimes that you just wanna put Netflix on and let them “chill”. Let them make a chaos in the house and pretend you don’t even notice it. I truly believe there is no point in cleaning my house anymore until they are in college.
We know that it’s OKAY to yell sometimes, and it’s okay to get angry and frustrated at your kids, and that #momguilt is not healthy for any of us. Like a mom once said “I love my kids but sometimes I just don’t like them”. And that’s perfectly fine. Sometimes they’re just out of control. Dear kids, sorry I yelled. In my defence, you were acting like a bunch of psychos. I mean, I’ll have to admit. Sometimes my “Mom Voice” is so loud that I almost see my neighbours turn off the TV, finish their milk and jump to bed.
Don’t even get me started on this. Putting a 2-year old who isn’t tired to bed is like going out on a rainy day in sandals and shorts hoping that God will consider your intention and bring out the sun. Yeah, it’s similar to evoking the Gods of Sleep to make a wonder. Not to brag, but I am so good at getting my kid angry as hell with just two words: “bed time”. There’s endless blabbering, crying, incoherent storytelling, some weird yoga poses, numerous requests from the “Mom Slave”, hiccups, more milk. And then they finally pass out. Best. Moment. Of. The. Day. And #realmomsters are not afraid to admit that, and they embrace it and mentally prepare the whole day for that moment.
We become the slaves of our kids, and we know that but we still adore them to the moon and back. However weird that would sound. After getting his favourite three friends he won’t sleep without, his milk bottle, water cup, his favourite TV show on, another snack, about 5 bedtime books and his Peppa Pig toy, I’m pretty sure he looks at me thinking “I f*&ng own you”. Not before asking for the lights on and then off and then back on, because he just can.
Ultimately, that’s what it’s all about. Embracing the chaos that comes with mommy-ing and make peace with the fact that you simply can not have it all under control 24/7. You just can’t. So you’re going with the kids out for lunch, and they won’t have anything but taste from everyone’s plate while running around each table from the restaurant, eating two deserts and getting their new label clothes covered in chocolate. So what? Embrace it, know it’s them, it’s not you baby.
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