I recently wrote a Facebook status about how my dishes are never done. It’s like a not-very -helpful mantra to myself regarding the process of cleaning my house. The dishes are never done. If they are done, it’s only because some other household chore like vacuuming was willing to take one for the team.

This is reality. As moms these days, we’re all busy. We have jobs on top to the jobs we already have of raising our kids and running our lives. Which explains why some of my Facebook friends responded to my status by showing pictures of their current messes. And it made me feel better about my mess. Because we all live in wreckage sometimes, no matter what particular living room we each have.

What did surprise me was that I got a few private messages from fellow moms that didn’t feel they could share publicly. Nothing terrible, just run of the mill mom stuff. Dishes that sat for over a day. A bathtub needing to be scrubbed after a visit to the beach.  But it got me thinking about how we often associate our own self-worth with the tidiness of our living rooms or kitchens. And… excuse my language here but, that is just fucked up. Unless you live in absolute filth and the city is coming to condemn your ass, you should not allow yourself to question your value as a mother or a woman based on the number of laundry baskets that sit next to your couch. It’s jacked up and I’m calling all of us out on it.

So I’m sharing my mess. This is mine today. And I’m going to find some part of my house every Monday (I’m sure I won’t have to go searching or anything) and I’m going to post it here. I hope that you share your mess too. So that we know we’re not alone. So we can see that we are all more similar than we are different. And as women especially, we all really need to start seeing that. And helping each other out instead of bringing each other down.

Thanks for sharing in advance.