I am currently writing this post as my son is in the bathtub. I helped him in, gave him a few toys, and asked if he minded if I wrote a post as he played. He lines up his dinosaurs on the side of our jacuzzi tub and makes a tidal wave with his arm to wash them away. He looks up from time to time to talk about his swim instructor, his numerous temporary tattoos that he named today, and to show me how he can toot underwater. Fabulous.
I am not the perfect mom. The perfect mom wouldn’t be typing while bathing her kids. She would save all of her work for when her kids are fast asleep in their beds. They would never creep downstairs a dozen times, thus delaying bedtime to an unreasonable hour. She would be drinking an organic, locally sourced herbal tea instead of Grey Goose and La Croix out of a silly straw because her kids used the regular straws for an art project.
|The time I gave her a box of Band Aids to play with because I had a conference call.|
The perfect mom would have covered her kids from head to toe in organic children’s sunscreen instead of reaching from the front seat and swiping them here and there with a sunscreen stick that has melted from the heat.
|The time I forgot to pack ANY warm clothes on a trip to Michigan for my kids.|
The perfect mom wouldn’t have been late picking her daughter up at daycare today because she got stuck in a traffic jam following a last minute meeting she pushed to set up. She would have arrived on time, happy and ebullient, and would never have run out of gas on the way because she would always makes sure she has a 1/4 tank. Sigh. #TGFF (Thank God For Fumes)
|The time I took a shower. Yes, a 5 minute shower.|
Maybe she wouldn’t have high anxiety that pushed her to set up multiple events, always be doing and on the go, always pitching ideas and setting up collaborations. I’ll bet that perfect mom is always present when with her children, and TURNS OFF her cell phone. Yep, not me. I admit that I am kind of addicted to the thing, and I twitch when I hear a text until I can uncover the message.
|The time I said screw dinner and grabbed McDonalds to eat at the microbrewery.|
I want to relax. If I was perfect, I would schedule a weekly massage for myself and do yoga regularly so I could be that zen goddess of a mom. Well, I can’t even schedule a dentist appointment for myself. Yep, I have had a cracked tooth for over 6 months and I’ll be damned if I can find a time to get it fixed (but I have time for shopping, lots of time for that, because it is the only thing I can do in ten minutes at a moment’s notice that relaxes me).
|I told them to get dressed up for brunch, and this is what they interpreted that phrase as.|
And dinner? Sometimes, sometimes, I have a perfectly balanced meal for my kids. Made from scratch, with love, with food from every friggin’ food group. Most of the time? I am trying to put a semi-edible Keto-friendly meal (ugh, don’t ask) together for my husband and I and scramble to pop in the “emergency” chicken nuggets into the microwave and dump some applesauce into a bowl.
|Ice cream for lunch. Yep.|
But tonight. When I rocked my 2 year old to sleep in the rocking chair that my mom used to rock me in, I felt it. I felt that connection with her as we harmonized to Twinkle, Twinkle, the rush of love that occurs when she grabs my wrists to wrap my arms around her rotund belly. I renewed my commitment to do better tomorrow, to live more in the moment, to put my family first. That’s all I can do at this point, is revel in those heart-crushingly beautiful moments and strive to create more of them. I may not be the perfect mom, but I am just doing my best, and my kids remind me how much they love me just the way I am every day.
|Saturday brunch at possibly the unhealthiest restaurant on the North Shore.|
My message here is that life isn’t a color-coordinated Instagram gallery. It isn’t a picturesque Facebook stream, or a series of quirky yet pithy tweets. I kinda suck in some of the mom categories, but you wouldn’t know that from my social media posts. Once in a while I will peel back the curtain, but a part of it is a reality check for myself.
|Sucker as a bribe to make it through a flight.|
Being a parent is so damn hard. I want to cherish every moment with my kids, but some days I just want to book myself into a suite at the Four Seasons under an alias and run up a record-breaking room service bill. I guess I just want to let you know that I’m not perfect, but all I can do is vow to do better tomorrow. To be better. To treat everyone better, including myself. Because we all deserve it.