Confessions.

Did anyone else watch today's Oprah Show about the "Secret Lives of Moms"? It was a back-and-forth about the perils and confessions of motherhood. Mothers everywhere confided how they'd like to trade their husbands for a housekeeper. They complained how at certain points in their lives they concluded that having a baby was a big mistake, that they had to reinvent themselves to encompass the huge sacrifice they made as a parent.

After watching the show I slumped down in my seat. I felt somewhat relieved that other mothers hated poo! as much as I did, and sometimes went a few days without a shower. But something was missing. I felt a little empty, a little icky. Maybe I waited for someone to say that putting your husband and your family first is okay. That we should focus on the mystery and grace that surrounds a good woman who is trying her best to be a good mother, whatever hardship might follow. There was so much beauty lost in that hour of snarky complaining.

So that I am completely clear, I am at times, the queen of complaints. I come in swinging with the best of them about how my life has become 24-7 servitude and how the person I used to be is floating above me somewhere, waiting for room to wriggle back in. How some days I am so impatient that I toss a few girls in time-out on my way to the couch before I stare at the wall for a few minutes in despair, pondering my next move.

One woman on the show said she sobbed the whole way to the mini-van dealership because she could not believe she was stooping to that level. Really? Is it really that bad? Can we just keep perspective here and be glad that you get a new car? Moms were one-upping each other the whole time like, "I completely lost my mind." "Well I completely lost my mind AND went to therapy." "OH YA? I completely lost my mind, killed someone, and THEN went to therapy".

I understand the need for validation. I need it all the time. But where is the love? There was no point in the show that anyone stood up and said, "But I love my children. I love their impossibleness and the fact that they don't shut up. I love their cute toes and the way they can't say their "R's". No one did. It was just... a little bit sad. Because if we all sacrifice daily, hate our jobs, and complain constantly, then where does that leave us? Hopeless.

(Look at me talking all fancy now that the kids are in bed. Call me tomorrow morning, I'll be singing a different tune!)

{Thank you for your comments. This something that all of us believe, and I devoured every single one of your words.}