11 years ago, shortly after my first child was born, I remember saying to a good friend of mine who was also a new mom "I really think that I am going to be good at this job (motherhood)" Oh, the naiveté.
On top of it all, I had this picture of the "perfect mom" that I was going to be. One who loved making cookies, who loved coloring & crafts, who played 'house' for hours and never got bored, who had mountains of patience and perfectly behaved children.
Well, it didn't take long to realize how drastically short of that picture I was going to fall. And I often felt like everyone else had it so together -- everywhere I looked there were "supermoms."
It has just been in the last few years that I have allowed myself to give up the guilt of not living up to the image that I had created in my head of what every good mom should be.
Don't get me wrong -- I'm still on the quest to improve my mothering efforts. But I've accepted the fact that I'm a mom who:
Doesn't like to cook
Doesn't like crafts
Hates scrapbooking
Does not have a clean house.
Dreads any school project that involves parent creativity
Often found yelling "Would you all please stop talking"
Has failed to teach her children to stop interrupting (thus the yelling)
Has kids who think the floor is where they hang their coats
And the most dreaded -- has forgotten her child at school (only once, honestly).
What I do know, however, is that at the end of every day my kids have been smothered by my love for them and prayed over fervently. I am smart enough to know that it is only by the grace of God that they will turn into the people He intends them to be.
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