Every once in a while I tackle all the laundry and fold it all in one day, I have a beautiful meal on the table on time, the kids are bathed and wearing clean clothes and I look great. Ok, honestly, that happens like once every three years and that is because something else got put to the wayside. Notice I didn’t say we got in our homework that day or walked the dog or anything else. Why? Because something has to give.
The reality is 350 days out of the year, maybe more at some point during the day we cry because we are pretty sure we are the worst moms on the planet. We pray we can get through the morning with less than five tantrums or melt downs. I’m not just talking about the kids, nope, I’m talking about me, too.
Honestly, there are times I “have” to go to the bathroom, not because I have to go, but it is the only place I can lock my kids out of the room for five seconds of peace and quiet. If you call banging on the door and ignoring them for five seconds peace and quiet. Then there are other mama’s who don’t even get that luxury, because it’s too much of a risk. Five minutes of sanity would be five days of cleaning something up and Lord only knows what that would be.
Then there’s the days, week, I can’t say more than a week because even I think that’s ridiculous where you try to get your mommy brain back together, called emotions and your kids watch “educational” shows and survive on sandwiches and Totino’s pizza. Yup, been there, does it make me a horrible, awful mom. Mark would tell you I think so from my tears and freaking out, my kids would tell you it’s the best week of their life and they want to do it again. It’s all about perspective.
Sometimes I see a mom at Wal-Mart she looks so pretty, her hair looks amazing, she smells good and then I look at me, well in my mind, I don’t stop and take out a compact or anything, but I visualize what I think I look like in my head. My pulled back hair with my fancy headband hides my lack of a shower and my frazzled morning.
Instead of looking at the other moms garden, I need to applaud her for some how managing an amazing feat. Then I need to also remember my life isn’t her life and vice versa. I need to remember she might be looking at me and saying, how the hell does she do that?
Being a mommy isn’t easy, in fact it’s the hardest, most important job we have ever had. If we didn’t care then we wouldn’t be freaking out. We do care and we are not screwing up our kids, the reality is even if you were the perfect mom, your kids would need counseling for that too. There is no perfect mommy, but there is a heavenly father who loves us, a savior who has forgiven us and the Holy Spirit to guide us.
With tears rolling down our cheeks and swear words sometimes on our lips, let us not grow weary in doing good. In the end we’re all pretty sure we’re screwing our kids up, but doing a great job of raising kind, loving, compassionate human beings. I’d say, we’re doing a pretty good job.