I’m Perfectly Imperfect
Lest anyone operate under the faulty notion that I am Supermom, I’ve been reminded of my failings a lot lately.
One of the boys has complained of a plugged up feeling ear lately. I forgot that he has a pain tolerance that makes him a prime candidate for male epidural free birth, if there is such a thing. Following a hunch almost a week later we spent an hour in the walk-in clinic last night and walked out with a prescription for antibiotics. Big kids get ear infections too. And I’m suspecting he’s had many more than we’ve actually caught. Way to go, Mom.
Another son has abandoned homework for a while. And I assumed that he really did not have any. Looking good, Mom.
I’m noticing that church behavior is slipping, and I’m not talking about the babies. Awesome.
As I was tucking kids in tonight, I noticed one of them was not sleeping on a sheet. Just the mattress. Where is my “mom of the year” trophy?
A big brother did better than I did at calming down Emily at bedtime tonight. Is she switching loyalties so soon?
I’ve been yelling. A lot. Too much.
On the other hand, the laundry has been chronically caught up lately. Dishes are all sparkly clean and in their places. The bathrooms are sanitary. The living room is neat and tidy (except for the pile of tissues the girls tore out of the box when they were practicing for “Minute To Win It” while I used the restroom alone this morning.)
Let’s get real. I can’t do it all. My best efforts turn up short. When my pride gets in the way I tend to end up on the wrong side of perfection. For example, this morning I was so proud of myself for getting out the door EARLY for my Moms Club meeting. Turns out I was a WEEK early. AND I had two little girls in the car who were thrilled to have gotten out of the house and were looking for adventure. Thankfully I had the double jogging stroller in the trunk, so I turned my mistake into a few miles at the mall.
And that my friends, is what I’m here to tell you.
We cannot be SUPERMOM!
(although, our husbands would not mind it!)
We can be the best that we can be, at any given moment.
Sometimes that means that the laundry is caught up and lined up neatly in dresser drawers.
Sometimes that means tasty, nutritious meals on the table by 5:30 on the dot.
Sometimes that means immaculately completed homework.
Sometimes it means mucous and germ free clean and pressed kids.
Rarely will we get all of these things at once.
The Rev. likes to refer to a truth learned in his engineering days. There is quick, cheap, and quality. Choose two. You can never get all three.
So, that is how it is with motherhood, we can’t do it all.
Should we stop trying?
Should we stop beating ourselves up?
So, I’m like the anti-Mary Poppins. And that is OK.
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