I get the nicest comments on this blog.
They make my day. (Thank you so much.)
But sometimes, although I really do try to “keep it real” on here, those super nice comments make me think that maybe I’m not portraying the real me.
The one who flies by the seat of her pants most days (that is, until I finish off this Mind Organization for Moms…then I’m going to be a force to be reckoned with… 😉, and slams doors and is always running late.
I’m a mess.
Let me tell you what I forgot last week:
–two birthday parties (yes, really)
–a swim strokes class for my older girls
–an important prescription for Claire
–one of my dearest friend’s birthdays (seriously, and I still feel sick to my stomach every time I think about it)
And I’m sure in a few days I’ll remember more things I forgot that I could add to that list.
After a year of having a stack of scout merit badge patches for Max sitting on my desk (yes, a year), I finally took time out to sew them all on his sash thingy…on the wrong side.
I got so busy with the rest of life that I got mad at Grace on the last day of school.
I called one of my children a “brat.” How’s that for supportive? No matter how much she did or did not deserve it, (which I must say she kinda did in this instance…a story for another day), you don’t just call your child that.
I continually feel like I’m in one of those dreams where you are trying your darnedest to RUN but you just can’t seem to make your legs work.
As I’m scrambling around trying to get to the “have to dos,” my heart is aching to do the “want to dos.” You know, the reading with each child each night and the making my eyes sparkle while looking deep into each of my own childrens’ sparkly eyes as they tell me wandering stories about their days….all at the exact same time.
You totally speak to me. In the last month I have learned a lot about myself. The biggest and most important thing was that being the best at something is never easy. What I mean is becoming an amazing mother is a lot of work for years and years and years… Being a good mom takes A LOT of work. I am not a perfect Mom, but I am a great Mom because I try. This year I have been late to pretty much everything. Including school. I have at all times nine loads of laundry to be washed, and only a few items hanging in each closet. My downstairs and upstairs are never clean at the same time, and I am in constant fear that I will die and the Relief Society will come and clean my house and know “the truth.” We are the only family on the block that have their trash cans out a day after the trash man came. All these things used to bug me and embarrass me and make me feel just horrible, until last month. I read something and I realized that while my days are absolutely exhausting and overwhelming at times, and while I feel like I can’t keep up, I am still and incredible Mom because I keep doing it and I’M the one doing it. My perfection comes in my imperfection. I’m doing EXACTLY what I should be doing. Exactly what Heavenly Father wants me to be doing. I don’t think he cares so much if my bathrooms are spotless. So much as if I’m taking care of “his” children.
I can’t say how much I have thought about this comment over the past few years.
Because it’s easy for moms to get down on themselves. It’s easy to slip into feeling frustrated because we feel like we can’t quite keep up, especially when we compare ourselves to others who seem to be able to run circles around us.
BUT, we keep at it. We keep being “the mom,” through thick and through thin. Although sometimes we fail miserably, we can be good mothers because we’re trying our best. And we’re the one doing it. As Julie says, “our perfection comes in our imperfection.”
Yes, sometimes we make mistakes. Yes, we all forget things (right??? or am I the only one??). Yes, we agree to add too much to our plates at the expense of our families at times. We make bad decisions. We don’t think things through enough sometimes and maybe we don’t handle situations in the best way. We all do that. (Ok, at least I sure do.)
But I’m trying to be deliberate about how I mother, and when I get knocked down and frustrated, I’m going to keep getting right back up.
Because you know what that means? I get to be there with my children. The ones who call me “Mother” and who quickly forgive me my imperfections (which is great, because I have a lot of them).
Yes, I’m the one who gets to be there with them each day. And I love that.