4 Ways to Tell You’re an Un-Mom

For those of us who find motherhood a bit less ‘natural’ than expected, life can feel more like a circus than a life choice. While some women seem to be bred, or at least appear successful at managing the daily tasks of motherhood without having break downs in the produce aisle with toddlers, us “un-moms” find parenthood a little more challenging and a lot more ridiculous, depending on the amount of children napping at the moment. However contrary to what some might believe, un-moms don’t consider themselves victims of our ovaries, whining about motherhood and counting the seconds ‘til bed time every day. We love being a mom, and cherish our kids, but we’re a bit less Proverbs 31 woman and more Lucille Ball when it comes down to it. But rather than feeling defeated or “less than,” when compared to those more organized, ‘together’ kind of mamas, God’s showed me how to let go of my need for perfection and appreciate the free-spirited, joy-centered mom I am, despite endlessly burnt dinners and the amount of times my kids board the bus with mismatched socks. Here are ways that you can identify, and celebrate, if you too, are an un-mom.

Child-centered activities send shivers down your spine.

All it took was one “mommy & me craft time” at the town library to realize I must be missing a maternal chromosome beheld by other moms seeming to feel complete joy while gluing pipe cleaners to rocks and begging their kids to stop eating crayons. I felt similar dismay after loneliness and boredom led me to the unthinkable act of joining a local “mom’s club,” in hopes of scoring some adult company and maybe even snacking with both hands if my toddlers detached long enough. Although I found a 1:10 mom to un-mom ratio going on, it might actually have been okay if every mom there was not engrossed in conversation about proper breast milk storage and organic baby food recipes, when hoping to score some potential banter about hobbies, relationships, or really anything not having to do with kids. “How about that Trump?!” Silence. Same goes for activities like volunteering for the church nursery, and basically any other activity related to other people’s kids. Bless each lamb of God, but the last thing we want to do is swaddle someone else’s newborn or ration Cheerios when this is the first time we’ve left the house without yoga pants all week.

Your domestic life might frighten the faint of heart.

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We’re not talkin’ a little clutter and dishevelment that a quick run ‘o the dust buster and 30 minutes of Cloroxing will remedy. We’re talking the kind of disorder and mess that cause dead panic when a friend texts that she’s stopping by in ten minutes. Because for un-mom, “keeping house,” or maintaining kids’ chore lists on the white board and remembering to bring out the garbage brings more than the average amount of difficulty for those of us who’d rather do just about anything other than vacuum. It takes focus, self-discipline and constant reminders that if we don’t put the laptop down and do laundry, our kids will be left wearing their birthday suits, or a Halloween costume to school tomorrow. Dinner looks more like a health risk then a meal time, and I’m fairly certain my only food-related Instagram post was that of a meatball so over-cooked, it permanently melded to the oven tray. Who wants pizza?

School activities are not your thing.

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True un-moms immediately recognize there is no need to expound beyond this heading. Because for us, school joys like finishing a science project the night before…”you have to bring in how many pics of tree frogs?!”… searching for ever-elusive school library books, and trying to “help” with eighth grade math…the list goes on and on. I don’t know when the descent took place, but somewhere between Generation X and millennial movement, school has become so much more involved for parents. We’re talkin’ endless signature requirements for every piece of homework, checks needed for book fairs, candy-o-gram forms and a hundred different little projects that require our participation. In the course of one month last year I had to construct a “green” boat, decorate a turkey symbolizing our family culture (who makes this stuff up?!), and write two handwritten notes as my children’s “pen pal,” thanks to another stellar program initiated by an overmedicated PTO president. No one celebrates more than the un-mom on that last day of school, clicking our bare footed heels in the air to embrace a three month break from making mediocre lunches with one eye open at night or tearing apart the house for school store money at 7 a.m.

You’ve been known to hide from the kids in your prayer closet.

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Literally, and figuratively. For un-moms who love being a mother more than the daily act of motherhood, let’s face it. We need prayer like a mother. I’m talking the call down the heavens, wake up early for some intercessory empowerment kind of quiet time. I don’t even know if I really started praying in the spirit until having kids. Un-moms need constant prayer, patience and as much of the Lord’s strength as possible, to make it through lunch, let alone the week. This doesn’t mean we’re not creative, smart or highly functional people. My nickname at the office was ‘cap’ for cappuccino because I rocked it at work before quitting my job when God thought it’d it be intriguing to give me two more babies within two years. We’re not these quasi-functioning moms who can’t manage to keep things out of reach and sanitize plastic all day. We just sometimes question our very existence after getting stuck atop the E.coli - encrusted McDonald’s playscape and massacring this week’s fourth cub scouts project. We need the Lord, and we need him now, and nothing-no amount of work stress, relational drama or life challenges have caused me to “press in” more than having kids. Jesus, take the wheel…