Moms, Stop Apologizing

“Sorry for the lack of make-up and mom bun.”

“Please look past the mess on the floor.”

“Don’t mind the spit-up in my hair.”

“Sorry I have a sink full of dishes at the moment.”

“Excuse the toilet that hasn’t been scrubbed in a couple of days.”

Whether it’s a picture that is posted to social media, or a friend coming over to our house, women do nothing but apologize for being REAL. For not having all the time in the world. For being US. For being YOU. For being a MOM.

Ladies, we are moms. We all get it. None of us have scrubbed our toilets in the last two days, and let’s be real– the last week (or two, or month). The toys pile up. The dishes pile up. We never have time to do our hair, put make-up on, or look presentable unless it is a do or die situation. And it is nothing that needs apologizing for.

Here’s the reality of my life that I’ll go ahead and admit:

I have a dog. I do not sweep the wood floors or vacuum the carpet daily (which is what it would take to stay hair free in this house). There are tumble weeds of dog hair that accumulate on the floors after just a couple of days. Only then do I get around to sweeping and vacuuming. . . a couple of days later.

I have a toddler. That means even though she’s fabulous at picking up her toys at the young age of 2.5, she also leaves a mess at times. Sometimes there are toys on the ground, on the couch, and outside. 

I have a husband. His list is longer than my toddler’s! He leaves cabinet and closet doors open, he usually forgets to have our daughter clean up after herself, he creates crumbs like nobody’s business on the kitchen counter, he leaves socks lying around, and work shirts hanging on the baby gates. He shaves and leaves a trail of hair in the bathroom, that even after he and I both attempt to clean up, I still find hairs and more hairs. 

I am busy. I am tired. I am pregnant. I am a mom. I don’t shower daily. Sometimes I don’t shower every other day. Sometimes when I do shower, I just stand there in exhaustion and fail to actually clean my body. The alone time, and the water massaging me seems way more important. My legs, armpits, and nether regions have been neglected. I try to stay on top of it, I do. But occasionally I see my daughter point as I lift my arm and exclaim “uh oh” at the sight of my armpit stubble. I wear shorts in public and only then realize I have some leg hair going on. OOOPS. My make-up has separated into color and oil and won’t even shake back together. The last time I went to put it on I realized I needed to probably just throw it away. My hair is always up. Always in a “mom bun.” That’s what works and what is practical. I need it out of my way.

When my newborn arrives, I’ll have spit-up and poop in places I forgot existed. I’ll have bags under my eyes, and a shirt I’ve worn for days.

This is life. Life as a woman. Life as a mom. 

I’ve stopped apologizing for all of these things and now I  just laugh at them. One day I’ll have time to focus on my house and on me once again. But this is not that season, and I am A-OK with that. This is the season of little toes, big laughs, and lots of dirt. This is the season of play, fun, and silliness. This is the season to be confident and strong, not sorry and embarrassed. This is the season to prioritize enjoying our babies. This is not the season to prioritize looks and a clean house. And that’s ok. Drink it up, and don’t you ever apologize for being you, for being real, and for being a mom.