This. That. Mom.

Some of this and some of that. Musings of an ordinary mom.

Don’t Tell Me.

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Information is good. For knowing things. Except for when I just don’t want to know.

Like, if everyone else’s living room is totally clean right now, don’t tell me.

If other moms are ironing work pants and laying out school clothes,
don’t tell me.

If I should be reading books about potty-training and disciplining,
don’t tell me.

If my yard is a problem because of all the dandelions,
don’t tell me.

If our kids should be drinking whole milk instead of reduced-fat,
don’t tell me.

If the tooth fairy always visits some kids on the first night after they lose a tooth,
don’t tell me.

If you didn’t lose patience with your kids today,
don’t tell me.

If your kids never whine, never complain, never argue,
don’t tell me.

Because I don’t want to know.

I want to trust my gut, which tells me that the kids are doing fine, that we are doing fine. That we are happy and fulfilled and enough.

And sometimes that means putting my hands over my ears and scrunching my eyes closed and saying, “nah-nah-nah-nah-nahnahnah” to shut out all of the experts and the articles and the Pins and the information that tells me that we’re not.

And sitting on the couch, in our messy living room inside a yard full of dandelions, under a blanket with our messy, whiny, imperfect children. . . somehow perfectly content.

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