I'm Not Supermom and That's Ok

I meet her everywhere: that mom with the best chocolate chip recipe to share, and the one with the most swoon-worthy kitchen to boast. She’s shares her potty training success with those of us who are still struggling, and offers you her home-made concoction for a stubborn stain. She has the most well-behaved kids in the playground, sews Halloween costumes impeccably and even has time to put on eye shadow and foundation in the morning. Did I mention she looks fabulous, all the time? Skinny jeans instead of yoga pants, hair done up instead of a messy bun.

In my eyes, she was supermom, and I used to wish I had her as a mother.

As a product of a single family home, my mom barely had enough time for anything other than work. She had no choice—two girls to raise on her income was barely enough. She worked the night shift for years while we were left with aunts and uncles, and even neighbors. As a result, my sister and I learned to fend for ourselves. I was the kid that did homework without someone checking it first, my sister was the one who turned in projects that was actually done by her, without help or supervision from an adult. We became independent fairly early in our lives and knew more about how to cook meals on the microwave than on the stove or with a recipe.

This was my vision of motherhood—shortcuts and sacrifices; work over play.

Eventually, when I became a mother I started realizing that I was missing skills that a typical mom usually has in her arsenal; that somehow the most simplest of things—like cooking a good meal or putting my hair up in a braid—took more time to learn than to do. It used to bother me tremendously. I’m supposed to be a resource for my daughter someday; someone she can go to for cooking advice, or beauty tips. How am I supposed to fulfill that duty when it wasn’t taught to me in the first place?

Then, came the inevitable realization that I will never be that emblematic mom . I can’t pass down any special recipes to my daughter, nor am I going to be one of those who bakes cookies from scratch. I won’t be sewing her costume for a school play, nor will I be making any strides in applying flawless make up daily.

I wish I could, but I can’t.

I can’t be Super Mom, and that’s ok.

As much as I wish these gaps in my mother and daughter relationship didn’t exist, I wouldn’t change a thing about how I grew up. It got me to where I am after all—with a good husband, a beautiful little girl, and a life of honing my craft as a writer.

And though I will never live up to this perfect vision of the perfect do-it-all-while-looking-fabulous mother, my upbringing doesn’t diminish my knowledge and wisdom as a parent. Certainly, there’s plenty I can still teach my daughter.

Like the appreciation for literature and all the memorable worlds I encountered through them; or my fondness for words and how a flick of a pen can conjure magic and madness within the mind. Who knows, perhaps I can even pass down my admiration for art and creativity.

More importantly, however, I can still teach my daughter how to be independent and responsible; how to be graceful under pressure, how to persevere during the toughest of times; how to dedicate a life to those you love and care for the most.

Because, after all, mothering goes beyond secret family recipes, and braiding hair; it’s more than just make-up tips and sewing basics. Motherhood is sacrifice, hardship and joy. Its patience and grace; it’s kindness and strength personified. It’s never perfect, nor is it easy.

Motherhood is the biggest learning experience of my lifetime, and regardless of how I got here, or what my knowledge of it was beforehand, I’m not worried. Like my mom, I’ll raise my daughter the best way I know how. Simple recipes, useful beauty and practical style tips—these things will come with time and a little bit more experience. In a world where information and innovation is right at our fingertips, I think that’s the easy part. And there’s no shame in my daughter and I learning them together.


Maria is a mother, a wife, and a writer. She’s an avid collector of life’s little and big moments, and enjoys chronicling her first time parenting adventures on her blog, Collecting Moments. In between play groups and nap times, she spends her time wishing for more sleep and willing time to slow down just a bit (she’s yet to be successful at either). You can follow Maria on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Google+.