Messy Mama was born from the ashes of a chaotic attempt at motherhood.
Right from the beginning, from the complications of a long and difficult pregnancy, to the horrific experience during delivery. Right down to the struggle of trying to get my shit together for a tiny human that depended on me. Each part of it has been a crazy, exhausting, whirlwind of a beautiful mess. A full year after giving birth to my now sweet but salty toddler, I am finally embracing it.
You would think that by accepting my fate as the not so perfect homemaker, that I would drown into an abyss of dirty dishes, frustrated tears, and poop filled diapers. The truth is that it’s had the opposite effect. I did not plan to become Messy Mama, it just sort-of happened. It became a part of the new me, the mother that I am.
At first, it was extremely difficult. By the end of my baby’s third month of life, I was envious of all other mothers and frustrated with my experience. Selfishly, I believed I had been shafted from a glorious pregnancy and a memorable delivery.
While other pregnant women glowed, I hung over a toilet for most of the nine months. I couldn’t celebrate my pregnancy or enjoy it. I didn’t show off my bump, instead I spent most of my time in bed. I refused to be photographed. I was a sick, pregnant Mess.
My long and difficult pregnancy had me hoping for an “easy” delivery. Instead I got thirty hours of pure chaos and torture. The most precious moment of my daughters brand new life was the most horrific and traumatic moment of mine. At no point during my delivery did I feel like a Warrior Goddess. I was rolled out of the operating room a blubbering, disorderly Mess.
As the days crept into months, I found myself struggling to fit into my new role. I couldn’t keep up with the house hold chores, showers, or the motherly duties. I felt inadequate. Regardless of how hard I thought I had tried, I just couldn’t get it together. Motherhood was Messy and so was I; So very Messy.
Fast forward nine more months and I can’t help but be so incredibly proud of the mother I have become. As I follow my new toddler around, picking up after her disarray and Mess, I giggle at the destruction. I think about the irony of the last couple of years. How perfectly fitting it all is.
From the day she started exploring, she has been exceptionally curious. Never wanting to diminish her flame, I embrace it. I allow her to rip the books off the bookshelf, throw the DVD’s from their places, explore the cupboards until all the pots and pans, plastic ware and refrigerator magnets lay scattered throughout the kitchen and dining area. I let her rip the clothes from the drawers and throw her blocks around her bedroom and the living room. A representation of the path my little tornado has laid out before me since becoming her mom.
When I stopped fighting the Mess, everything became a little less Messy.
The more I embrace the mess, the less it has taken over me. The more I accept my anxiety, the easier it is to manage. The more I love the chaos of motherhood, the less resentful I become. Messy Mama has become Grateful Mama. Grateful for the little girl God has given me, and Grateful for the opportunity I have been given to be her mother. Grateful for my home and all the love I feel inside of it. Grateful for the body that carries it all. With gratitude, comes great love. A love that pushes me to want to be the type of woman my daughter looks up to. A woman who remains strong, regardless of her struggles. A woman who refuses to be swallowed by the chaos around her.
Now, I wake up with a little more motivation. I wake up with a little more intention. I wake up with hopes that I will be more of the roll model that I want my daughter to see. Yet, still a little bit of the perfectly, imperfect Mess because being imperfect is important too.
So yes, my house is a little cleaner and organized, I put on real pants more often, and my sloppy bun is a combed bun. I take my daughter on more memorable adventures because you only live once, and she gets to see how much I love my own body. But Messy is what she has made me, and there’s nothing wrong with that, so Messy is what I will be. A little less chaotic, but Messy Mama is here to stay. (Were you worried?) There’s so much more growing and cleaning that I need to do. For now, I’m Messy with a purpose, Messy with love. The best and Messiest role model I can be for the one who started it all. After all, I am her Messy Mama.
Who is Messy Mama
Contact Messy Mama
*Disclaimer – Statements made in this post are of my own opinions, views and thoughts. I am not a professional and should not be regarded as such.
*This work, along with it’s images, as well as other posts published by Messy Mama, are protected by copyright laws.
Copyright © Messy Mama 2019 https://messymama18.com