Martha Stewart’s complex

The Martha Stewart Empire began the same year I had my first baby (at least that’s when I became aware of Martha Stewart and her beautiful, meticulous world). This was unfortunate for me because it almost ruined my first few years as a new mom. Why? It set an unattainable standard for women who thought we could do it all.

I went from being a working woman in San Francisco with a career as an event planner with up-to-date clothes and money to spend, to being a stay-at-home mom in the suburbs COVERED in spitting up and sweat and surviving on a single income. Oh!

I looked for a way to regain control of my life again and found it one day at the grocery store checkout. There it was, a glossy magazine with photos of beautiful Swedish furniture, an article on “Toilet Cleaning 101,” and a photoshoot of a famous editor’s babysitter’s quaint rooms. “I can do this,” I thought. “I can be the best wife, mother, maid, volunteer, and chef ever!” I bought Martha Stewart Living Magazine and quickly mailed my check for $ 19 for the one year subscription. Big mistake.

I quickly developed a bad case of Martha Stewart Complex and was exhausted, unhappy, plump, and failing miserably at being perfect. The pressure was immense, the fun infinitesimal. My lemon meringue pie was lumpy, my husband’s shirts looked like they were ironed by a jumpsuit, my knit hat was crooked, and I could never make a hospital corner properly. Worst of all, the fun and excitement had evaporated from life, as was the orange glazed sauce I tried to pour over my Perfect Chicken.

He had a beautiful daughter who didn’t care if her toys were arranged by theme or if her blanket was made from the best cashmere. She wanted to explore, get dirty, look at books, play Polly Pockets, and most of all, be with her mom and dad. It was time to ditch the Menacing Martha and have some fun again!