Making Excuses for No Good Reason

Last night, an old soccer teammate since me a message about the USA vs Australia World Cup game, assuming that I--like any good soccer fan and former soccer player--was watching. Not only was I not watching, but I couldn't have even told you who the US was playing (for the record--I did know the World Cup was going on, and did know it was being held in Canada, but that's about it). But instead of just being able to admit that the World Cup isn't high on my priority list, I felt compelled to make excuses and justify my lack of spectatorship: I was home solo with both boys and we don't have cable, Darrell had the laptop at his meeting which is what we use to stream sporting events online, and kickoff was too close to bedtime for me to take the boys out (which--in hindsight--was way more of a lie than I intended. Turns out I forgot about the whole time change thing when I frantically Googled the game, so I thought kickoff had happened at 730, when it was actually at 630 local time. My friend probably thinks I'm either crazy or awesome for putting my kids to bed at 630). And then, like any good over-analyzer would do, I found myself wondering why I had felt the need to make excuses instead of just admitting that I wasn't really all that current on the happenings of the USWNT. The only explanation I could come up with? Mom Guilt. You know what I'm talking about. It's the constant pressure moms feel to do it all and make their lives and the lives of their children run beautifully and flawlessly. And while most of the pressure is self-inflicted, social media sites like Pinterest don't help the issue any. Because no matter what you are doing, it always seems like there is a mom who is doing more--and doing it better.

So to my friend: Sorry for feeling like I couldn't be honest with you about why I wasn't watching the World Cup. I shouldn't have let Mom Guilt get the best of me and I should have just admitted that life has been too crazy for me lately to worry about the World Cup. Now excuse me while I go eat some peanut butter out of a jar with chocolate chips on top while I survey the mess that is my living room because, well, priorities.