“Do you think I’m a good mom?” I casually ask my almost 6-year-old, as we lie, as we do most nights, cuddled beneath his tiny T-rex duvet facing one another.
“You’re the best mom,” he says reassuringly, flashing his sweet little smile and clutching his beloved gray Jellycat bunny — ragged from years of love, eyeballs and nose long gone — to his chest. Then he nuzzles his head into mine and I hold him for a moment, like I always do. I feel good.
But as I tiptoe out of his room, the mom guilt of the day creeps in. I look around at the toys scattered on the floor — put away but never really put away because the living room is overflowing with them. I see the toy shelves I just organized a few weeks ago, now in disarray with half-dressed barbies, their clothes flung about. I see the cheap plastic trinkets I loathe, brought home from school in holiday goodie bags, poking out of the dinosaurs-only bin. Marie Kondo would have a field day in my house, I think to myself.
I bend down to pick up spilled goldfish and the random puzzle pieces wedged beneath the couch cushions and place them on the table. Maybe tomorrow I’ll actually have the energy to restore them to their rightful place, but probably not. Maybe I’ll even try — for the twenty-seventh time — to scrub those black permanent marker spots out of our gorgeous Design Within Reach kitchen table — the one that hasn’t looked the same since my 6-year-old, 4-year-old and 10-month-old decided it was their art zone, and never will.
As I walk up the stairs, utterly exhausted from the day and all the clutter and the cleaning that comes with kids, I promise myself that tomorrow will be better. I’ll have more patience. I won’t yell when my older two abandon a mountain of playdough — tons of tiny pieces stuck to the hardwood — to gleefully build a Magna-Tile zoo. I’ll just join in.
I want to be the mom that is more concerned about having fun with her kids than the potential mess it could create. I want my home — just like my own growing up — to be full of my children’s friends and their laughter and, of course, the chaos that comes with it. I want them to have all the playdates and not be stressed about the tornado of toys that are bound to be left in their path. I want to host birthday parties at home without worrying if my house is nice enough or clean enough. Or if I’ll internally freak out about the toddler-induced destruction to come.
Recently, my husband accused me of not wanting my kids to have playdates at home (and my kindergartner loves home playdates) because I was too terrified of the house getting messed up. I’m ashamed to admit, it’s true. Don’t get me wrong, I love playdates, too — especially for the adult interaction — but I definitely prefer to meet other parents at the park. It’s easier this way, for me at least. Less mess! But this was a wake up call.
The next week we planned some playdates. My children were thrilled! We even twice picked up a couple friends from school and brought them home to play. They made a mess, as expected, but I got a few moments of peace while they joyfully launched styrofoam rockets and jumped off couches. And when it was time to go, we all turned on a clean-up song and tackled the tidying together. Honestly, it wasn’t so bad.
The cultural and societal pressure today, to be the perfect mom with a perfect house and the perfect kids, is intense, and only fueled more so by social media. “Perfectionism in modern motherhood can look like the never-ending quest to do everything and do it perfectly,” says psychotherapist Emma Barrett, who specializes in helping mothers. “It can also look like taking too much on or overextending oneself and feeling like there is more that you ‘should’ be doing as a parent.”
Recently, Marie Kondo admitted that, after having her third child, she was embracing a messy house. If even she, the Queen of Clean, couldn’t keep her house organized, how could I — also a mom of three with a newish baby — set such impossibly high standards for myself? Maybe I wasn’t doing so bad after all.
“Although striving for perfection for our children comes from good intentions and wanting to be a good parent, it can actually create an unrealistic expectation for our kids,” Barrett explains. “Our children observe us, and if we believe we are never good enough, they can also internalize these messages. For moms, striving to be the perfect mother will constantly be a disappointment, because there is no such thing as perfect. Coming up short against something that isn't realistic can lead to guilt, shame or burnout.”
Instagram and TikTok tend to exacerbate the issue, with an endless stream of picture-perfect moms playing in spotless playrooms with their always-impeccably dressed children. “Unfortunately, we are given messages in our culture and media that can certainly create the unrealistic and antiquated expectation that women have to make motherhood look easy, perfect and tidy,” says Barrett. “Systemically, we need to acknowledge that a perfect house is not only unreasonable, but it’s the responsibility of the entire family to help maintain it — not just the mother.”
Like Kondo, these days I’m focused on prioritizing time with my children — and unfollowing folks who don’t spark joy. Honestly, I do still love a clean house. But now, when the mess overwhelms me, I just cue the clean up song.
Elizabeth Kadar is a seasoned freelance fashion, lifestyle, parenting and commerce writer with bylines in Forbes Vetted, The Knot, Motherly, SheKnows, Redbook, Betches, Harper's Bazaar and many more. She lives in sunny SoCal with her husband and three small kids.
