I’ve been running around the house the last few days like a drill sergeant with a severe case of OCD. “What?” I shriek at my lovable three-year-old as he tracks dirt all through my relatively clean house.


He looks at me with saucer-like, uncertain eyes. I swoop down on him like a hawk to its prey and wrestle his muddy sandals off, glaring at him. “I don’t need to be cleaning all day! Do you understand me, mister?” He’s thoughtfully quiet and rightfully wary. He knows the mommy monster is here.

I’ve been snarky, snappy and disgruntled. All three of my children have been doing their best to steer clear. Those aren’t the only signs that something is amiss. On a recent trip to Target, I felt compelled to spend way more than I should, buying little flourishes for my home that are not necessary. I paid full price! Anyone who knows me would understand how completely out of character that is. I clip coupons and enjoy shopping at the Goodwill. But, I shelled out big bucks for fanciful luxuries like decorative pillows and table runners. Why?

I had just gotten the kids down for much-needed naps, was perusing my emails when I clicked on one from the mother of my son’s preschool buddy. She would be unable to make tomorrow’s playdate at our house. The relief that suddenly washed over me was palpable. The tension in my shoulders dissipated and the deep furrow in my forehead seemed to magically soften.

I read on. She had a “health concern” and needed to get to the doctor before the weekend.

My mind went to the dark place “Could it be cancer?”

Something let loose. I sat in silence, contemplating the real reason I had been in such a negativity spiral over the last several days. A couple weeks prior we were invited to the same mother’s home for a playdate. I was immediately struck by the size of the home. I couldn’t help but wonder about the astronomical mortgage payment as I knocked on the grand double doors, surreptitiously scanning the beautiful front porch and meticulously landscaped front yard. It had to be at least double the size of our house. She came to the door with a bright, welcoming smile. The inside definitely matched the exterior and did not disappoint. The kids played nicely. It had the makings of a very pleasant experience, but the whole time my mind swirled with irrational dread… “I’m going to have to have them over to my house next!”

When I was pregnant with our first, my husband and I bought a fixer-upper assuming we’d have ample time to do some restoration. Ha!—newbies. We barely have time to take showers. Little by little, we have managed to make real, noticeable improvements to our modest home, but it still requires a lot of TLC, of which I am sometimes acutely aware.

Now, I was struck with the notion that awareness of our home’s flaws had been so foremost in my mind, it had caused my mood to completely tailspin. As the old adage goes, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” And my kids were experiencing that lack of joy in a very tangible way…

The mommy monster had taken up residence in their home.

I had let my perceived inadequacies take over. I had been so preoccupied worrying about how I would appear to this other mom—never considering how I measure up in the eyes of my children. Was this what I wanted for my life as a mom? And this other, seemingly Pinterest-perfect mom, whose opinion I was so concerned about? She was smack in the middle of a real health crisis. My brand new, charming, full-price table runner seemed pretty stupid. Perspective shift accomplished.

The next day, I got an email from the woman. She thanked me for the prayers and expressed what a terrifying 24 hours she’d endured. She had a lump in her breast, so the doctor had wanted to get her in for a mammogram ASAP. Gratefully, it turned out to be nothing.

She was enthusiastic to reschedule the playdate. We haven’t set a date, but I’m hoping this time, I’ll surrender my worries about not measuring up. That I’ll shelve my perceived shortcomings. I pray I’ll have the grace to let go of all the needless comparisons.

We often feel the pull to weigh our blessings against others’. But in so doing, we become slaves to worry, stress and the world’s critical opinions. On our journey to being the best mothers, those concerns don’t help us one bit. In fact, they are a serious hindrance to becoming a good parent and role model. I’m going to work hard to focus on being content with what I have. It’s truly temporary anyway. For right now, I have a husband and kids who love me and are happy to forget that the mommy monster ever existed.

If you feel as if you’re getting caught in the craziness of the comparison trap, challenge yourself to temporarily think long term. Ten years from now, will your children remember a cluttered living room, a messy yard, or… (gasp!) ugly throw pillows?! NOPE. But they will remember the time you read a great book to them, got on the floor and played a game with them…and the laughter!

Once you’ve reconciled a real future for your kids and you, try to begin living in the moment.

The friendly mom who has yet to see our home? I’m pretty certain when she does finally come, she’s not going to be thinking about frivolous things like decor, or landscaping. She’ll be happy to spend some time watching her son interact with his friend and reveling in the fact that she’s alive to do it.

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