The Truth About A 'Perfect' Mom

by Allee Moore
Originally Published: 

Like many moms out there, I look pretty put together to the outside world. My kids are well dressed, I’m overly prepared on play dates, I’m usually never more than 10 minutes late and I appear to shower regularly. I’ve noticed that all of this surprises a lot of people, and while I adore the sweet compliments, I wish I could pull them to the side and tell them the truth about the sweet, simple mothering façade I maintain.

You look so thin for having two young children!

Well, that’s because parenthood doesn’t allow me to eat. Today I had ¼ of a chicken nugget and three animal crackers. I’m like a NYC rat – I scrounge around for food and am just trying to survive another day.

Your baby is so happy!

He’s sitting in his own feces. I forgot a blanket for him in below zero weather and his own shit is probably keeping him warm. Keep walking before you realize he smells like a sewer.

Your daughter’s outfit is adorable!

Are you blind? She’s wearing a ghost Halloween costume, chunky jewelry and rain boots. It’s not cute; she looks like a HOT MESS. What you don’t see are her knee-high baseball socks and arms that she scribbled on with a permanent marker. We’ll just pass her off as “eccentric.”

She’s so polite for a 2-year-old!

Please, on the way here she told me to stop singing along with the radio because my voice is “not good.” Back up to this morning when I asked if she could make me pretty with her toy make-up, she said that my face needed a magic wand. She’s as polite as a shark asking permission before it bites your limbs off.

Your make-up looks so pretty today!

Yeah, well, I had to let my 9-month-old son chew on a plastic bag so he’d be quiet while I put on mascara.

You and your husband are such a lovely couple!

Husband? Is that the man helping me out in Target? We haven’t talked about anything other than diapers and Curious George in three years. I hope he’s doing well. Tell him I say hi.

Staying at home with them must be so rewarding!

What’s rewarding is my five o’clock cocktail.

You’re always at story time, the kids must love it!

No, they tolerate the forced singing and boring books. I love it because it’s 30 minutes of somebody else explaining life to my children. You want to know what a rhyme is? Go ask the librarian! You want to know why Goldilocks isn’t charged with a crime for breaking in the Bears’ house? Go ask the librarian! I’m going to sit back here and read my Twitter feed that hasn’t been refreshed in an entire week. Look! Kate Middleton had another baby!

You have it altogether!

No. Not even close. My hair isn’t washed, my legs aren’t shaved, the only word my daughter knows how to spell is “Netflix” and my son accidentally had peanut butter three years before doctors recommend it.

I may not be the world’s best, most put-together mother, but apparently I’m one hell of an imposter.

Most days, that’s all I can ask for.

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