We all see moms who look like they have it all together. Their kids' clothes all match, and I'm talking even the socks, and they're always on time and you've been to their house and it leaves you with a sneaking suspicion that even their junk drawer is organized. Don't even get me started on Pinterest. Or, the kids seem like they're always perfectly behaved and the mom says all the right things and do they ever eat mac and cheese or is it always organic mushroom risotto with truffle oil?
We marvel at them and wonder how they do it all and why can't we do it all and if we can't then what in the heck is wrong with us? What is it in us that forms the equation that if someone else is good and happy, it must mean something is wrong with us? Why must their goodness and happiness detract from ours? As though there were a finite amount to go around.
So let's just take away the Super. We are moms. We are making mistakes and making magic. We are failing daily and flourishing hourly. We are probably tired and pulled in many directions and underappreciated. But mostly we're the face of love that our children look to for affirmation and assurance that this big, beautiful, horrible world is okay for them and that they're good enough for it.
That's a big job. Huge. So we have to believe we're up for it. We have to let go of the notion that if we had better wall hangings we would be better people. We have to let go of the idea that if we could get caught up with laundry our life would be better and we'd be more successful. We just have to stop.
Being a mom is so much better than being a mythical superhero known as SuperMom. Moms make mistakes and let their kids see the messy, beautiful, painful, blissful reality of life. Moms take off their capes, wear jeans and ponytails and whatever shirt is mostly clean and walk their kids to the bus stop and give hugs as long as the kid will allow. Or they stay in pajamas and teach them in the dining room. Or they set breakfast out and go to work while the kids still sleep.Or they walk their kid into first period class to ensure she doesn't ditch again. Or something else entirely. Because there is not one right way to do it.
There is love. There is grace. There is forgiveness.
And in order to share those things with our children, we must first share them with ourselves.
What's one way you gave or received love, grave, and forgiveness today? And, pssssssst, we don't have to be SuperMom. It's enough to be loving, gracious, forgiving mom. Keep up the good work.