Tolstoy once said, "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." I would say the same could be said of hyper-efficient moms and lazy moms, respectively. We happy few who are totally fine identifying as "lazy moms" are open about the fact that we are not even going to try to "do it all," and, as a result, there are things lazy moms refuse to feel guilty for.
Let's clear the air right away: even the laziest mom is still a mom, so there's only so much lazy she can be, right? In fact "lazy" moms aren't so much "lazy" as they are great at creating a charming and self-deprecating way to let people know that they have zero interest in attempting to conform to an impossible standard established for mothers. Be ambitious, but not too ambitious. Be available to your children 24/7, but have a life of your own. Prioritize your romantic relationships, but ignore it in order to cater to your children because they're the most important thing. I mean, that is exhausting to type, let alone to live up to. So, being lazy isn't so much eschewing responsibilities so much as it saying, "You have given us way, way more responsibility than is necessary or important. Screw you."
I am proud to declare myself a "lazy mom," and so I dedicate this to the other lazy moms out there. Our, let's not say "laziness," let's say "fantastically laid-back attitudes," may manifest in a variety of different ways, but there are some common threads that all leave us refusing to feel guilty about the following:
Because sometimes there's just not enough time or, you know, I'm really, really not feeling it. Yes, ideally I'd like to want to cook, but it's not like I have to if I want to keep my family alive. There's pizza, and Chinese take out, and that really amazing falafel place down the street. You know what? I actually think it would be even lazier of me to cook dinner, because then I wouldn't be giving you all these amazing culinary adventures. Yeah. Think about it.
Because do you know how exhausting it is to engage with children all day every day for, like, a decade? It's impossibly exhausting. "Oh, just let them play on their own." Yeah. My kids don't always do that. They never let me pretend to be the lead in Sleeping Beauty (always my request, because lying down on the couch waiting to be kissed while they're fighting a dragon is something I can get on board with). I always have to get super into character and never break and run around and watch every single thing they do. Yes, sure, a lot of times it is tons of fun, but a woman has her limits. You know what my kids will do on their own? Watch Star Wars, again and again and again.
I think back to college and how quickly laundry could pile up and there was just one of me. Now I'm doing laundry for a family of four (though I make my husband do his own because f*ck that guy, he's an adult with two working hands who knows where the washing machine is). It stands to reason, therefore, that the laundry gets out of hand very, very quickly. As a lazy mom, I don't care. Yeah, I do my best to keep ahead of things, but laundry is like that giant boulder in the first Indiana Jones movie. You can run and run and run but you can only keep that up for so long. Eventually you're going to have to dodge it and just kind of let it roll over and away from you in order to survive.
A Top Knot
This is me. Me and my top knot. My cousin Rosa gives me sh*t for the above every once in a while, but what can I say? I gotta be me and live my best life and a huge component of living my best life means keeping the 7,000 pounds* of thick, black, curtain-like Italian-girl hair out of my face while chasing after my kids. Is it the most fashionable choice I've ever made? No, that honor goes to this really amazing yellow silk dress from Banana Republic, but I digress (and I'm also getting bummed because that dress is amazing and I never get to wear it anymore). Point is, the top knot is practical and the only way to get it off me is to cut it off. (Please don't cut it off, Rosa.)
A Messy House
"How can your house be this messy?" the unknowing will ask. "You're home all day."
Yeah. I'm home all day. With a 4-year-old and a 2-year-old. Cleaning under such circumstances is an exercise in futility. Seriously, it would be like trying to sweep your porch in the middle of a tornado. It's not going to work and someone is going to get hurt.
When I have managed to ignore the siren song of take-out options and have endeavored to cook a meal, don't expect Top Chef, people. Anything I cook will take half-an-hour of active cooking time or less. At least one component (instant mashed potatoes, pre-mixed salad, minute rice) will come out of a box, and I have no shame. In the words of my mother, a sage woman indeed, "If you don't like it, cook your own damn dinner."
Zero Craft Or Kitchen Skills
This is an actual picture of an actual breakfast I tried to make my actual children. That fact that it didn't give my children nightmares that haunt them to this day is pretty remarkable, because look at those sorry bastards. So, despite my love of take-out and quick meals: I do like to cook. However, when it comes to making food look perfect or Pinterest-like, I have no inclination or ability and I'm fine with that. Ditto any kind of home decoration projects or crafts. I leave that to others. Vaya con Dios, muchachas. Have fun with your scrap booking and knitting and up-cycled storage fixes. I'll be over here, with my top knot and some bland-looking cupcakes.
My yoga pants are my second skin and, like my actual skin, they will be with me until I die.
Cell Phone Usage
I swear, you guys, if I see one more viral, "Dear Mom On Her Cell Phone" bullsh*t I am going to go all Beyoncé in "Hold Up." (Ooh! Then I'll finally have a reason to wear that awesome yellow dress!) Did it ever strike you sanctimonious jerks that literally no one can give their undivided attention to children 24/7 without going actually insane? So yes, I'm on my phone while my kids are romping about enjoying their childhood because I've actually found five minutes where I can be on my phone. Now leave me alone, I'm playing Pokémon Go and I gotta catch 'em all.
Today you will see my daughter in a tutu worn over a dress with rainbow feather wings, a Mickey Mouse Club hat, and two pacifiers (the second one, I believe, is exclusively an accessory). Yes, she dressed herself. Yes, she left the house like that. I do not care, because she's a kid and who the hell cares what kids wear? Certainly not her mother in a top knot and yoga pants. Besides, even if I did kind of care, it wouldn't be worth the crying argument that would ensue when I told her to change. I pick my battles and this ain't one of them. (Also, tell me this level of naive insanity isn't absolutely adorable.)
Because even lazy moms are hardworking moms, and we need to unwind.