Perfectly Imperfect

About a year ago (well, who knows really when it was, sounds like a good way to start....) I sat in our pediatrician's office waiting for our appointment.  I found myself flipping through parent magazines, which in of itself was strange because it was probably the first time in 8 years I didn't spend the entire waiting time following an inpatient toddler around who was determined to explore the ins and outs of germ-infested doctor offices.  I started scanning the "advice" given by both professionals and parents.  I examined the pictures in both advertisements and articles.  And two ideas popped into my head...1) I cannot relate to this,  and 2) no wonder I was so anxious when I was pregnant with Sam and in his first year of life.  These magazines painted this incredibly unrealistic picture of what being a mom entails and literally looks like.  Perfect discipline, perfect nutrition that must be paired with cutesy presentation of all major food groups, stylish clothes for the whole family. Disneyworld and Beaches resort vacations.  And everyone must be smiling.  Always.

Throughout my grad school years friends and strangers (but oddly, no family members ;-) commented on me being "Super Mom" and I had to shy away from those comments....I just didn't see it (or don't see it).  In fact, I'd argue that all of my mom friends are "Super".  This idea of "Super Mom" or being "Magazine Perfect" is in contradiction with my life.  Evidence:
1.  Noah's hair.  Seriously.  He's the nutty professor in a 6 year-old body. I know it needs cut.  And yes, I know I sent him to school with it that way (and yes, I tried to tame it at the door of the school building this a.m. by patting it down with my own spit on my hand).  The fact that I wasn't bothered when the before school staff told me that Noah had read the word "Ass" out loud because another student wrote it in sidewalk chalk was probably icing on the cake for that person.  In fact, I probably looked proud that my former non-reader had such great word decoding skills.  And I'm not entirely convinced that the other student who wrote the word was not Sam.  I didn't even ask.  I was late for work.  Nodding and smiling about the situation was all I had to offer.
2.  Is Little Ceasar's pizza a food group?
3.  I've worn the same black pants alllllllll week.  And I'm not apologizing.
4.  My self-talk.  Do other mom's do this??  Do other mom's have phrases that they just keep in their head...but the fact that they are there, may be disturbing if other people knew?  For instance, every time I hear my children whine, I think "Every time you whine an angel loses its wings".  I don't SAY it.  But I think it.  And it makes me at least smile on the inside.  And that's really just the surface of my self-talk catch phrases.  So, if while my child is whining, you're thinking I'm pondering strategies to positively direct my child into appropriate behavior.....think again.  I'm taking my mommy-self on a vacay to Florida where only me and ONLY me sits on a beach with a big fat margarita.  Where I don't have to think about the poor angels losing their wings.
5.  My house is clean.  When I have visitors.  Neighbors:  please don't randomly stop by because it ain't pretty.   It's not uncommon for me to take a step back, look at my kitchen, and think "Thank goodness this is not a restaurant  because the Health Department would Shut. This. Down.  And to think that's where I lovingly prepare beautiful, crafty meals for four cherubs and doting husband.

And I don't say this to encourage us to all be Slacker-Moms.  That's not the case at all.  I'm saying this because I think we need to give ourselves a bit of a break.  Ultimately, all of my kids are growing up in a home where despite our flaws, they know they are loved.  They know that God loves them.  They know that  at the end of the day they may not have the fanciest clothes or the fanciest toys or awesome vacations....but they have me.  All of me.  The flaws and the fun.  The sad and the happy.  The frizzy hair and the wide smile.  (The squishy arms and the stinky feet...really, folks, we could go on forever ;-)  The point is....as their parents WHO we are is sufficient enough.  Perfectly imperfect.