What If You Quit Being The Mom Everyone Expects You To Be?

What if I quit thinking that being a good mom was based on having everything perfect and began to see the beauty in mud puddles and glue sticks and teeshirts with yogurt splotches and walls with handprints?

What if I quit judging myself so harshly and loved all of the quirks about who I am?

What if I just quit with the expectations and lived?

Sometimes I just want to quit the whole 2015 hyper mothering thing and just be a mom.

Just a mom.

A mom who messes up and a mom who loves her kids and a mom who tries. A mom who is okay with serving pancakes for dinner or letting them have ice cream for lunch now and then. A mom who is willing to laugh just a bit more and smile at the other moms in the store. A mom who actually likes herself and goes to bed feeling proud and not wondering what to do next.

Maybe you need that as well.

Maybe in your heart right now you’ve got this running tally of places where you either didn’t measure up or things that you didn’t do. You can probably see all the moments when you didn’t respond the way you wanted to – and those moments can weigh you down with worry and wondering if your kids will turn out right. You can see all that stuff that just keeps the tears behind the eyes and the wonder if you’re a good mom in your heart.

What if you quit being a mom that measured you with expectations meant to measure a hypothetical super mom and just began to love you for you?

Maybe we’d all begin to see the beauty in tying shoes and buckling seat belts and slapping peanut butter on bread again. Maybe we’d see how we know how to comfort that crying two year old at three am in just the right way and we’ll see the beauty of their head resting on our shoulder. Maybe we’d see the power in fighting for a teen who seems to be lost but we don’t forget about them and love them continuously even though our heart hurts. Maybe we’ll see the hours spent sitting at the table working on math facts and working on letters and circling direct objects. Maybe we’ll see all the boxes of macaroni opened and cheese sauce stirred and cereal poured and straws popped into juice pouches.

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