Springtime refreshes a lot a people. It pulls them out of the winter dull-drums and breathes into them a breath of new life. For me (and probably most teachers), springtime just makes me crazy. Middle School hormones (and they start to stink, literally), drama explodes, apathy abounds, and administrators are on your back 24/7 whispering "testing, testing, testing" in your ear as if you'd somehow forgot the looming date with destiny. It's all crap-ola, and it makes me crazy.
All this impending doom got me thinking about my sanity, and simplifying life.
I was scrolling through Pinterest ('cause it's, like, my favorite time filler while I'm waiting in line, waiting for a pot to boil, letting my nails dry, or any other split second of potential thumb-twiddling), I happened to notice a lot of make-me-crazy santity killers. For some reason, there seems to be this rampant idea of a super woman out there who does it all.
There's the Super Teacher boards full of colorful, organized, label-bedazzled anchor charts, Common Core aligned feel-goody lessons done in a color-coded, label-bedazzled binder, and holiday/theme related encouraging treats handmade and waiting on doe-eye pupils to take them, look up and smile with gratitude at Ms. Super Teacher.
Then there's Super Wife boards where Super Wife turns all of her husband's yellow necked shirts into precious smocks for their children (who's birth times are proudly displayed on the wall with sentimental clocks stopped at that precise moment), decorates and organizes their bedroom until it becomes a haven of comfort and sophistication. Super Wife is also Super Mom, who makes everything at home to save her family from the Chemical Monsters lurking in household cleaners, laundry soap, shampoo, and even the coffee creamer. She makes her children's clothing, or orders them from posh boutiques, and fills mundane rainy days with homemade chemical free finger paint, recyclable crafts, and indoor games from "up-cycled" household items.
All this while preparing gluten-free paleo clean-eating from-scratch gourmet made-ahead freezer to crockpot meals that cost her less than 2 dollars a person.
And don't forget mom's stylish ombre hair is in beachy no-heat waves, and she made sure she went to the gym where she is decreasing the size of her thighs and tummy and increasing her boobs and booty.
I know. I am being cynical, and I'm not going on any rant that hasn't been ranted before, and I know Pinterest is also what you make of it. In all reality, I get tons of great ideas there, and many of them get implemented eventually. Hence why I enjoy the scrolling! But there is a real pressure out there on us that isn't just confined to pages of Pinterest. And I'm tired of being over-stretched, over-worked, under-paid, exhausted and still feeling crappy because I get my toiletries from the Walgreens clearance rack and my groceries from Ingles based on whatever is on sale, and I haven't had time for the gym in who knows how long because I barely see my kid and hubby on weekdays as it is.
With all that being said, the expectations out there on pregnancy and birth beat all I've ever seen. There was once a time in my life when I would have been that go-all-out type, but I like to think I've gained some wisdom from my (few) years of motherhood, teacher-dom, wifey-ness.
First of all, there's the announcement to the hubby. Spectacular and sentimental. Me? I pee on a stick while he waits. Then it's made public. The announcement? It's cute, over-the-top in adorable-ness, and carefully planned and announced a calculated time. There's the belly pics in perfect succession, hand-lettered chalkboards chronicling the mom to be's cravings and baby growth. Then there's the mega-themed gender reveals. Bows or ties, mustaches or pigtails, surprise cake flavors. The diaper parties and dad to be bashes, designer nurseries, and multiple maternity pic sessions. Don't forget the day of birth photo session, monthly pics with the same outfit in the same place. Clearly, I could go on.
But this is where I quit. I'm not doing all of this. I'm not going to spend my days living up to some expectation of doing everything, and doing it all big.
I want a simple life, with time for my family. Time to relax. And if that means Hamburger Helper, Tide, and Tressemme, and cellphone baby pics, then so be it.
The next 9 or so months might be even more exhausting for me, and I'm going to spend every spare minute propping up my feet and not worrying about being super anything other than super in love with my family.
My sanity is way too important than filling up my social media with how super I am.