Creamy Chicken, Mushroom & Wild Rice Soup

Running On Empty

One of the most challenging things about being a woman is that we all run on high octane. We often find ourselves traveling along the road of life at such a high speed, that we don't always see the big curve up ahead – even when we are standing there waving a huge caution flag. The curve is inevitable, but we ultimately find ourselves on the road to burnout spinning completely out of control unless we know when to decelerate.

Our work hours tend to be exceptionally long, our workloads exceedingly heavy, and the pressure to excel enormously high. And the technology we use to make connections, well, that makes our workday practically endless. Because our ambition, strength, and confidence go beyond socially prescribed gender expectations, we often punish ourselves to achieve greater success.

Over time, this kind of stress takes a heavy toll on the body and mind, but high-octane women are so passionate about what they do that they're often reluctant to acknowledge their burnout. While the curves may be inevitable, a crash is not.

Let’s face it. It’s hard to be an adult. It’s harder to be a parent. But it's hardest to be a mom. No matter what. No matter when. But in 2021, it’s gotten exponentially harder to be these things. When did modern parenting get so unnecessarily complicated? Enter Jane.

Jane is that woman, that mom. She is the Olympic gold medalist of womanhood. She’s an over-achiever but makes it all look effortless. She is an expert at everything and documents it all. And because of Jane, women can’t just experience life anymore, we also need to curate it.

Jane makes everything herself, from playdough to lip balm. She remembers every occasion, from her first kiss with her husband to the birthday of your cat. Jane has a cookie cutter for every occasion, and she never misses a volunteer opportunity. She has a refrigerator full of pre-prepped nutritional and delicious meals (toddler and adult versions).

Jane makes her kids’ Halloween costumes every year. She also hand-monograms every single Christmas and Easter outfit, each one carefully picked out and stored in tissue paper months in advance. There are no cheesy mall photos of Jane’s children. She has a cast of characters play out the 12 Days of Christmas; a finale of Santa hoisting her children into his sleigh and gifting them a unicorn. All caught on camera.

Jane’s children are never bored. They are always engaged in developmentally appropriate sensory play, thoughtfully running their little hands through moon sand. They don’t watch TV, obviously, they don’t even own one. Jane has it down, all of it. She loves this stuff, deep down to her soul. It fulfills her. It brings her joy. She’s good at it. And there’s nothing wrong with it. I would never begrudge Jane her life’s work. That’s not the problem.

The problem is that back in 2010, before we all knew what a Pinterest board or Instagram Story was, Jane took a liking to social media. She began to share scenes from her perfect life, and because they were so beautiful, other people started to share them. And then more people not only shared them but tried to emulate them. On and on it went, like a giant tsunami. A decade later, we have suddenly found ourselves in a world where almost everyone feels like we need to be just like Jane. Instead of being the exception, Jane’s life has become the standard by which we measure ourselves. We no longer find ourselves just struggling to keep up with the Jones, but the Janes, too.

It’s because of Jane that we feel the need to have gender reveal parties. It’s because of Jane that we feel the need to hire professional photographers to document everything in our lives and pretend to laugh and talk like we’re on an Oprah Winfrey Special. It’s because of Jane that we can’t just buy a yellow sheet cake with vanilla frosting, inflate a few balloons, and have a birthday party for our kid. Thanks to Jane there has to be a theme.

It’s because of Jane that Elf on a Shelf has turned from a cute thing that some people do to a mandatory life event that will scar your child if he or she misses and basically ruins Christmas. Speaking of Christmas… have you ever found yourself furiously searching online for matching Christmas pajamas for your kid or rushing around to different stores a week before Christmas? Have you ever felt like the success or failure of your Christmas literally depends on your baby and your toddler wearing matching striped footies? Jane. While we are at it, we can blame Jane for the entire Etsy industry, too.

Now, none of these things are wrong. If you do these things because you want to do them or because you think it will make your kid happy, that’s fabulous. Godspeed. The only issue is when we do these things not because they make us happy or because we really want to do them, but because we saw that Jane did them and feel like we should too. God love Jane because women like her do really exist. And honestly, we all have our Jane moments. We all have our things, whether it’s crafting or baking or coming up with games, or taking gorgeous photos. And we should embrace those things we’re good at and that we love.

But we also should evaluate the other stuff, the things that make us curse silently under our breath as we stab ourselves with a needle for the 100th time in an hour trying to sew a Halloween costume, or that leave us in tears as we throw away our third attempt at a 3D dinosaur-shaped birthday cake. Sometimes you have to give yourself a pass and say: you know what, Jane may be really good at this, but I’m not. Some alternatives make everyone’s life easier, like going to Walmart to buy a cake from a photo book that your child actually wants.

It’s okay to not be a super mom. It’s really hard, but we need to permit ourselves to just let go of all the things we do because we feel like we should instead of because it feels right for us and our families. Let’s all just take a breath, put down the glue guns, and remember that no one is perfect. We even have our doubts about Jane.

Real life is messy, and unfiltered, and you don’t get the chance to retouch it before someone sees it. Your children will not remember the homemade Halloween costumes, only the year that you ate all their Reeses Peanut Butter Cups. They won’t remember the elaborate party favors you slaved over, only that they were gifted store-bought playdough by a friend. When they are older, they won’t remember anything the Elf on the Shelf did, but they will never forget the one time the tooth fairy left an IOU. This is real parenting people. Unless you like the view on the Highway to Hell, I say embrace the perfection of imperfection. It requires a lot less work and you won’t put unnecessary mileage on your wellbeing during your journey through life. Because when you find yourself running on empty, it’s your memories, not the “moments” that will keep you going.

Full disclosure, I woke up at 2 am to write this story, worked a full 8-hour day remotely, made dinner including a reel for Instagram (this 30-sec video took 2+ hours), and I never made it out of my pajamas, brushed my teeth or my hair. My husband hasn't eaten a hot meal since I started this blog, because taking a photo has taken priority. Some women may be able to do it all. I am just not one of them.