It all started with my first big parenting fail. When Cecilia was about three months old I was ready to throw in the towel with breastfeeding. I was an utter failure. She was still struggling to latch. My supply was low. Pumping sucks balls… Actually it sucks tits, but you know what I mean. Ha! And obviously anytime I’d find a minute to strap myself up to that Godforsaken machine, that would be the minute Ceci decided to start wailing.
Fuck that shit.
Am I right? I mean, I tried. I really tried. The stress of it all was entirely too much. So I gave up… But first I had to figure out what formula would be the best option for her. I ‘Dr. Googled’ the shit out of baby formula. Apparently, they all suck. And if you formula feed, you’re a terrible mother. Join the club. Bad moms. Right?… If trying my fucking best isn’t good enough to be a ‘good’ mom, than I’d rather be bad. Who’s with me?
The thing is, that time period sent me down the Internet rabbit hole. Shit’s dark down there. All of a sudden I’m reading about GMOs, pesticides, fluoride, arsenic, and a plethora of other things that are definitely going to kill us all. Face palm. I literally went from Big Macs and fountain soda to sprouted grains and kombucha. What the crap?! Fountain soda tastes so good. I really miss it.
For a time, actually a few years, I tried like hell to be the ‘best’ possible mom. I gardened, soaked, dehydrated, preserved, and cooked food from scratch. And I hated every second of it. I loathed it. Why? Because it was too fucking hard. That’s why! I washed everything with vinegar, or essential oils, or castile soap. I had air purifiers in every room. I had a water filter so strong you could drink the water you shit in. I mean, I literally researched everything. And as it turns out, everything is going to kill us. We are totally screwed. Big sigh. Finally a time came when I just threw my hands up in the air and said, “Fuck it.”
One can only do so much before they start losing their mind. The more I knew, the less empowered I felt. Ya know? I mean, how the hell can anyone keep up? Unless you’re lucky enough to have more money than God, like Tom Brady and Gisele, it’s entirely impossible to do everything you should to keep your family safe and healthy. Right? So I’ve decided to stop worrying and just do my best. Here’s why…
Worrying about a problem is usually worse than the actual problem. Sitting around obsessively concerning myself with the pesticides in my coffee is probably killing me faster than the actual coffee. Right? Besides, I literally run on Dunkins. I’m pretty sure they put crack in their coffee, so we all get addicted and have to come back for more. Just kidding. It’s totally the sugar. That shit is so bad. But so good. I literally can’t go a day without Dunks. It’s a serious problem.
For real though… Here’s my point. Each of us are walking our own path, viewing life from our own perspective. We are all doing our damn best. Shit’s hard! I got to a point where I had so much knowledge, but felt like there was nothing I could do with any of it. It was entirely too much for me to handle. It made me feel like a total failure. They say, “When you know better, you do better.” But what if you know better, but you can’t do better? Then what? That’s where I found myself.
I’d tell myself I was a terrible mom because I couldn’t feed them well enough. Or afford a nontoxic mattress. Or get a whole house reverse osmosis water filter. (Yup, that’s a real thing.) Or buy only organic food. Or do household upgrades the eco-friendly way. I mean, I could go on forever about all the things I failed to be able to do for my family. It left me feeling pretty terrible about myself.
Slowly I have released those feelings of guilt, and have accepted myself where I am. I still hold all the information inside of me to be true, but I don’t let it make me feel fear. And because I don’t fear the information, I can do my best, and leave the rest. I wish I could make my family eat like a caveman. I really do! But I can’t, so I’m not going to worry about it. If you happen to be a crunchy mommy that has actually pulled this off, please know I totally envy you. This post isn’t about bashing crunchy mommies. I want to be you. But not at the cost of my happiness. I love myself way too much to let information destroy my sanity. And you should love yourself enough to accept where you’re at too.