That perfect Mom thing…

So I did that post. About all the reasons I am not the perfect Mom.

And…

I have to tell you what it a relief it is to know that I am not the only one that does some of those things. Now, obviously, I have tons more of slightly imperfect things {slightly…ah!} that I do. But you know what?

That’s okay.

I’m doing the very best that I can do.

I fall so short most days. My patience hits rock bottom in the evening. But I also have days where it seems endless. Which, trust me, with Paul’s kids…is a blessed thing.

Something funny?

I asked Shayne if it bothered her that I have a fat tummy. Her response?

“No. I like it. It’s like a cushion when you hold me.”

Which can be a good thing and bad if you ask me.

Pretty sweet of her to say though.

I’ve said this story before but I want to share again. Shayne had a project at school on who was her hero. She said, “Mommy. Because she helps me clean my room.”

It doesn’t get any better than that peeps. Knowing my kid thinks I’m a hero when she is mine. All of my darlings are. Even when they are making me want to pull out my hair.

I know at the end of the day that I did everything I did for a reason that day.

Kids are very forgiving you know.

Thank God.

I have told Connor a dozen times how sorry I am that I missed his rainforest song at school. I asked if he was sad with Momma. He told me,  “No. You took my picture at home.” It’s hard to ground him from his DS and his TV and the Wii when he’s being sweet. It’s not hard to ground him from all that when he’s being a pain.

So this whole rambling post of mine basically sums up to:

I am a perfectly imperfect mom—with stretch marks, droopy you-know-whats, a cushion-y tummy, cursing habits, french fry giving, baby loving…etc.

So here’s to being imperfectly perfect. A great club to be in.