Shoving pinterest perfection up your flower shaped soap
Okay, so the newest viral facebook thing is a post (both well-written and topical) about the dark lure of perfection, as represented on pinterest.
As a woman who regularly tries–and fails–at some brilliant thing I’ve found on the internet, I get–and sort of agree– with the point she is making. No one should look at another person’s life– as they are representing it on the internet– and assume complete objectivity. Very few people showcase their failures, or the piles of dirty underwear– perhaps that should be the next blog movement? A new link up party for Show me Your Piles of Dirty Underwear Sundays?
Except– and we all know this would happen– people would start staging the underwear piles; adding creative lighting and photoshop actions. Posing their dirty undies in creative and witty ways. Next thing you know, instead claiming ownership and pride for the piles of dirty underwear (after all– piles of dirty underwear are the marker of an involved mom!) we’re competing and judging the ones that got a wee bit carried away by the dirty underwear display challenge.
At the end of the day, it’s all flower shaped soap, people. (BTW– that transition won’t make the least bit of sense if you haven’t read the original piece.)
Isn’t it ridiculous how often we– moms, women– allow ourselves to feel inadequate by other women? Good gravy, I bet some of y’all can cook, right? I hate to cook– and my disdain shows with almost every meal I forcefully slam on the table. I don’t feel down on myself when my friends cook delicious feasts– I do the dishes so they’ll invite me over again.
No mom should feel pressured to make flower shaped soap (or, in my case– mud pie kitchens). No mom should feel pressured to spend $100 on scholastic book orders, or to volunteer more of her time because she is, you know– a SAHM. Or to dress stylishly for carpool, or to always have a guest-ready house, or to always have clean, well-mannered children.
Now, there will always be bitchy women who want you to feel inferior for your store-bought play-doh. To them you should just smile, while delivering a mental double middle finger. These women just suck. They sucked in high school when they tittered about your clothes and motherhood didn’t make them suck less. They will find fault with whatever you craft/cook/wear because they have identified you as someone who cares about their opinions.
Screw ’em. They have vapid, empty lives. It confuses them when you stop caring. It’s so MUCH fun to confuse them.
However. In my– and the rest of my fellow flower-shaped-soap (mud pie kitchen) making moms— defense, it’s unfair to lump all of us into the “that mom” category. Perhaps my need to attempt ridiculous things like mud pie kitchens is selfishly driven.
Perhaps– and this is truth– I choose these projects because I need to have tangible accomplishments. Moments in my life beyond housework, playdates, tantrums, and the sound of Mooommm….come wipe my butt occurring at the same moment a forkful of warm food approaches my mouth.
So, for the moms that don’t want to make flower shaped soap, for the love of Cool Ranch Doritos–DON’T.
There are so many other reasons to feel inadequate. Here are a few I thought of:
- Punctual moms.
- Moms who don’t yell in public (I KNOW y’all are doing it at home! Dammit!).
- Working Moms who serve The Man (Woman) all day, and then serve The Family.
- Moms of special needs, or critically ill children. Just… yeah.
- Single Moms that manage not to spend the evening locked in a closet singing
“WARM KITTY, SOFT KITTY”.
- Shrug. The rest of it is just noise.