You’re Not a Hot Mess Mom
The last thing we need is to be something we’re not.
I have absolutely had it with the Hot Mess Mom. You know the one. You’ve seen the videos. You couldn’t help but watch. Maybe you felt like you had found your people. That’s okay. I was there once, too.
There is no shortage of moms who have become internet sensations for their wine-laden rantings about the difficulty of being a mom. My social media feed is full of them.
It’s the “in” thing to be the Hot Mess Mom. She’s cool. She doesn’t care. She’s all about self acceptance. She makes fun of the perfect moms.
I see these women running around like crazed lunatics: soccer practice, play dates, bakes sales, birthday parties. Sometimes in their pajamas. The Hot Mess Mom can’t even remotely “adult.” It’s too much. The kids, the school project, the house, the husband.
I’m over it. I want you to be, too. You fell into another trap. One that has created for you just one more thing to live up to. The Hot Mess Moms are the new Cool Girls. If your clothes are clean, you’re trying too hard and you can’t sit with them at lunch. Don’t even think about wearing pink on Wednesdays.
For the record, I have been a single mom of a young kid while working 50+ hours in an executive position and serving on at least two non-profit boards.
I’ve been there. I’ve been exhausted. I’ve been overworked and under appreciated. It’s just a part of motherhood. We asked for it.
I wasn’t the Perfect Mom. I left for work once wearing flip flops because I didn’t notice. I wore my hair in a bun for 15 months straight. That’s nothing to be proud of. It just was what it was. I never felt judged. Ever. No one expected the perfect mom. But, no one expected me to be a fake martyr either.
I am about to liberate you from being a Hot Mess Mom with one word: NO. Say. Fucking. No. For once. And mean it. And stand by it. Put your foot down. Grow a spine.
No one is asking moms to do a whole bunch of crap they don’t want to do. You have your own free will. Exercise it. You want to feel free of expectations and standards? It doesn’t come by way of wearing the same makeup for three days. It comes with saying no.
So many of these Hot Mess Moms in these self-glorified videos talk about husbands. Where the hell are they? Listen, if you’re married and you haven’t washed your hair in five days and your husband hasn’t touched a dish in the same amount of days, we got a much bigger problem on our hands.
If you’re single, trust me, people will help. Oh, people will help. It means sucking up a little pride to ask for help but it’s worth it.
Asking for help, though, kills the Hot Mess Mom trope. And god damn it, we need to belong. We’re not one of the perfect ones. So, we’re not extraordinary unless we’re a Hot Mess Mom. It keeps us from being a regular old boring, normal mom.
Let’s forget about the “I have to have Chardonnay at 1pm on Thursday because look at my life” outcry. I’m not buying it.
If you need to have a glass of Chardonnay at 1pm before the kids come home, that doesn’t make you a Hot Mess Mom. It makes you a functional alcoholic, Carol.
I can tell you that I am not a super hero but I still managed to get up every day and put on pants. And, I mean real pants. Not active wear. Not pajamas. If you are going out in public in your pajamas you aren’t empowered. You’ve given up and there is a small army of women telling you it’s okay.
Most moms that will identify as a “hot mess mom” aren’t even a hot mess. They’re just human. I don’t know any mom who has not gotten notice of a kid related event any sooner that 47 minutes before the event. For which a special garment needs to be worn. Or a present needs to be brought. Or which a check needs to be written. We’ve all been there.
You’re not a hot mess. Look at me when I’m speaking to you. Right here. In the eyes. You’re doing the best you can. And I’ll let you in on a secret. These Hot Mess Moms you see all over social media and YouTube glorifying being a 100% disaster area? They’re not a hot mess either.
They’re faking it. They’re selling you something. It’s all about the endorsements and sponsors. It’s smoke and mirrors. As long as you embrace the concept of the hot mess, they get paid.
How do I know this? Because I watched a video made by two women with perfect hair and lipstick in which they talk about how they are too disorganized to remember a school meeting. Either it’s bullshit or they’re really just selfish assholes. Sorry to be the last stop on the fun bus.
Just be a mom. You don’t need a clique. You’re need to be enabled. Just exist. And, for God’s sake, go put on some damn pants.