It seems to me that the achievement of life/work/family balance is the holy grail of modern motherhood. Balance is this seemingly attainable goal. If I just get up early enough and multi-task through-put my day, making lists while waiting at school pickup and doing my keigel exercises at the same time that I am packing my daughters nutritious school lunches, I can live this fulfilled, balanced life. I too can have a toned body, well planed meals and a happier marriage, one on one time with my children and time to myself. For years I have read countless articles and heard this statement of living a balanced life presented to me as a lifestyle – an achievable goal – and it all can happen in ten steps.
Since I have been one of these women who this steaming platter of promise is being peddled to, I have recently come to one conclusion. The achievement of balance is a crock of shit. It is snake oil sold by charlatans to a bunch of suckers. It is a mirage, a carrot that is dangled in front of millions of women, me included, that I don’t think I will ever reach. In my constant pursuit of this goal that I never really quite achieve, I feel like a failure.
I think this idea of balance was invented by the marketing geniuses who invented "tweens, which is linked to the same sadistic group that came up with Justin Bieber, the Atkins diet and spanx.
I’m done trying to Balance. I’m not buying into this anymore.
Why? Because the way that Balance is peddled in magazines, seems not like balance, but perfection. And there is no such thing. You know how endless and hard this entire crazy endeavor of children and being a grown-up can be. There will always be another pile of laundry to do, errand to run and lesson to reinforce to my children. But you know what? My house doesn’t look like it will featured on Hoarders, my children are smart and social and my husband and I have great booty, so I must be doing something right. Also, there is no way that I am getting up to exercise at 5:00 in the morning.