On Sunday morning I awoke to the usual death scroll of Facebook and happened upon this article ‘The Susan Phenomenon (or why social media makes parenting much harder than it needs to be)‘. The writer outlines an impossibly perfect mother and her many talents and pursuits, lamenting how her documentation of such in Instagram and Pinterest has led to the demise of ‘string-it-together’ parenting. I laughed along with the piece and agreed that the whole ‘styling’ of parenting has gotten a little out of hand.

And then I stopped.

I had the briefest of panicked thoughts.

‘Am I Susan?’ 

Now before you think I am arrogantly convinced that I’m the most perfect of mothers, please be assured I see my faults in neon and have laid many of them out on this blog. But whenever people gush ‘I don’t know how you do it all’ there is a part of me that feels flattered…and another part that cringes.

I enjoy the typical motherhood activities and menu plan in cuisines, host themed celebrations and have thrown gender reveal parties. I love to op shop and dress up a little. I take loads of photos of my kids (when they are behaving) and post about them on this blog and Instagram.

In some respects, I am Susan.

What isn’t evident in the photos is the sigh and eye roll that often accompanies the second and third instruction to my children. The generously-poured glass of wine that gets me through crazy hour most nights. The shrieking lunatic I can become if the right combination of buttons is pressed while I’m hovering over the edge. The deliberately tuneless lullabies that make an appearance when I’m just so fed up with the whole bedtime routine.

Now to be fair, the piece concluded that the problem isn’t entirely with Susan but in others trying to emulate her just because it seems like that is what motherhood should be like. A point I heartily agree with.

Perhaps Susan is a myth, a medicated facade or perhaps there is a third option…

Maybe there is a bit of Susan in all of us.

We rock at parts of the gig and make some tasks look deceptively easy. Some of us post about our wins in social media and the omission of the unattractive moments seems to suggest that there were none.

I look at women who thrive in different areas to me with a little bit of envy. Those who seem endlessly patient with whingey children, those who combine work and motherhood with blissful ease, the ones who volunteer on committees and don’t find themselves with stress headaches as a result. I see the women who drive two hours to visit refugees in detention centres, sign their kids up for heaps of extra-curricular activities, women who bake perfect themed cookies and those who host crafternoons for neighbourhood kids. I see the women who hold the hands of others in labour, those who breastfeed for longer than six months, those who whisk their kids away on adventures and seem unfazed by the chaos.

It is easy to see our own lack. To compare our weakness to another’s strengths.

I see great value in being honest, not trying to pretend we are more capable than we really are. But I think this is only part of the story.

By changing the way we look at others – choosing to overlook the initial burst of envy or pang of wistfulness – by learning to celebrate their strengths instead, motherhood wars could be abolished.

For I would hazard a guess that every clash and struggle, every online slanging match begins with our own lack and our desperate need to cloak against the uncomfortable vulnerability that emerges within us.

So for me, I’m choosing to celebrate Susan. To cheer her on with her dedication to motherhood. And to all the Susans that surround me – you are amazing. Stop and consider your strengths today, the tasks that just come easily for you and feel proud about them. You probably haven’t even realised that others don’t find those things as simple as you do.

What do you find easy as a mother? Let me know in the comments so we can all celebrate you! There aren’t many moments for affirmation in this gig, so here is your chance to shine 😉