Mommy’s Plate

The mommy in me (MIM) is a totally clueless, winging it, kind of entity.  I don’t believe any book or any person can tell you how to raise your children so that they grow up to be perfect members of society.   I’d like to say that I just want my kids to grow up happy and not be mass murderers, but that would be a lie.  I want my children to grow up and be thoughtful to those around them, to have confidence in what they do and how they think, to pursue their dreams and be able to attain them.  Lofty, I know. 

My mom, unfortunately for me, has set the highest bar EVER in terms of motherhood.  And she didn’t do that in a malicious, prying into my life, you suck kind of way.  It’s just a matter of fact.  I don’t know how that woman while either going to school and working full time and having 3 children aged 6-11 or working full time (and at times having 2 full time jobs) managed to always have dinner (and I mean real, from scratch dinner) on the table, clothes folded and put away, house clean, and raise some pretty decent kids. I basically put my potluck contribution on her buffet table so now, the woman works full time, does all that other stuff about dinner and cleaning, and takes care of my little boy on her days off during the week.  And she’s still, like, a non-crazy, kind person.

So, I don’t have any good answers or solutions, just experiences.  Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I make mistakes, but I tell my kids I love them everyday and kiss them when I can.  Even when I want to throw them in the trash.